Why We Fight
by Zephyr Seraphim
Summary: An accident in Potions sends Draco and Hermione to the past where they meet a couple much like them. Hermione & Draco, James & Lily. Written before The Half Blood Prince.
1. Evil?

Part 1:  
Evil?

Hermione Granger glowered at her partner. She knew that Severus Snape was cruel...but she'd never considered him evil. No, she hadn't thought he was evil until now. Now, the bushy-haired brunette was convinced of the Potions Master's evilness. She had exceeded everyone's expectations when she'd gotten O's on her O.W.L.s in every class she'd taken (much to Snape's obvious dismay, she'd even gotten an O on her Potions O.W.L.) and had decided to take Advanced Potions for sixth year. She had convinced Ron and Harry (who were hoping to become Aurors) that they needed the class and they had reluctantly agreed. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were the only Gryffindors in Advanced Potions; there were a few Ravenclaws; most of the sixth-year Slytherins; there were no Hufflepuffs in class.

When Snape had found out that Hermione was taking Advanced Potions, Snape had done the most sadistic thing he could thing of. Out of pure malice, Professor Snape had made Draco Malfoy Hermione's partner. It was only the first day of sixth year but the thought of being Draco Malfoy's partner made her stomach twist painfully, she had to study with him, sit by him. Sixth year was going to be the very definition of Hell.

Draco scowled at Hermione and then at the Potions Master. _How could he do this to **me**? A Malfoy? Malfoys **don't** work with Mudbloods!_ he thought angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest with annoyance as she meticulously added the ingredients to the cauldron simmering. He frowned thoughtfully. _What are we supposed to be making again?_

Trying to keep his mind on the task, he looked over his notes and added some ingredients distractedly. He frowned as the potion turned pink instead of green. He glanced over Hermione's notes and noticed the checkmarks by each of the steps. He groaned as he realized he'd added twice as much hellebore and wolfbane as the potion required to the mixture. He glanced at the next step and watched as Hermione's hand moved over the potion with a pinch of thistledown mixed with thyme.

"No!" Draco cried as the thistledown and thyme entered the concoction. It was too late, the potion roiled to the horror of the two, bubbles popping all over the pink surface. Draco and Hermione grabbed their bags to protect themselves from the potion as it exploded all over them.

Hermione dropped her bag. "What did you do to **my** potion?" Hermione demanded.

"**Your** potion, Granger?" Draco scowled. "As I remember, it's also **my** potion."

"And **you** messed it up," Hermione replied. She frowned as she looked around the dungeon classroom, there wasn't a sign of the potion...or Snape...or any of the other students. The room was darker and dingier than usual and it was completely empty. The ingredients were in their respective places as if they hadn't been moved for a Potions class yet. Draco caught the brunette's curious looks around the room and his silver eyes followed after. "What did you put in that potion?"

"Too much hellebore, too much wolfbane," Draco stated.

"How much more?" Hermione asked.

"Twice as much," Draco frowned.

"And you let me put in the thistledown and thyme?" Hermione demanded.

"I bloody well tried to stop you!" Draco scowled, shoving a strand of pale-blond hair off his brow. He gazed at the table where their cauldron had been and tried to figure out what they had accidentally concocted. Whatever it was, there shouldn't have been such an explosive reaction...and why had everyone disappeared?

The bell rang and Hermione gathered her things. She'd figure this out later; right now she had Advanced Arithmancy. Hermione frowned; she also had Advanced Arithmancy with Draco. _Two classes in a row with Malfoy, what could be worse?_ she wondered.

The two left the dungeon and headed to Professor Vector's classroom. There were students filtering in the halls but none of them were familiar in the slightest. Hermione glanced through the crowds, looking for a glimpse of red or black in the sea of brunettes and blondes. She could tell that Draco was looking for Crabbe, Goyle, and/or Pansy Parkinson. The walked silently to Arithmancy and took their seats across the room from each other. Hermione looked around the classroom, it seemed...different. She couldn't explain **how** it seemed different but it just was. Out of the corner of her brown eyes, she saw Draco noticing the oddness as well.

Students filtered into the classroom and Hermione almost fell out of her seat when she saw a black-haired boy...he was identical to Harry except he had blue eyes instead of green and he didn't wear glasses. He was flanked by two other boys, a tall, well-built, dark-haired one with laughing silvery-blue eyes and a smaller, thinner, brown-haired one with serious golden eyes. The Harry-look-alike had a shining "Head Boy" badge on his robes and the sandy-haired boy had a prefect badge on his robes. The badge-less boy was teasing the Head Boy. "Now, now, Prongs, we don't want you to become the bighead boy, now would we?" he taunted.

Prongs rolled his eyes. "Padfoot, mate, you're just jealous," he stated.

"You're not going to go all fun-spoiling on us like Moony, are you?" Padfoot asked, flicking the prefect's badge. Moony glared at Sirius teasingly.

"Padfoot, Padfoot, Padfoot," Moony sighed, putting an arm on Sirius's shoulder. "Someone has to spoil your fun or you'll get yourself into trouble with all the hearts you break." Hermione **did** fall out of her seat (right in front of the trio) when she put the nicknames together: James "Prongs" Potter, Sirius "Padfoot" Black, and Remus "Moony" Lupin.

Sirius smiled teasingly at her. "Need some help there, love?" he asked, offering his hand. Hermione took his hand cautiously and he helped her up.

James smirked. "Someone has to keep him in line...all the girls falling at his feet," James chided to Remus and Remus grinned.

Sirius rolled his eyes even as they shone with mirth. "Don't mind James and Remus, they're idiots," Sirius said. "Are you new? I haven't seen you around before. I'm--"

"Sirius Black," Hermione said, blushing as the boy shook her hand. _James and Sirius are dead! And now they're my age? How!?_ Hermione thought. He looked a lot different than the Sirius Black she had gotten to know the summer before fifth year. His eyes were full of life and mischief and his skin was tanned.

"Your reputation precedes you," James teased, shaking Hermione's hand. "James Potter...and this is our mate, Remus Lupin."

Remus shook Hermione's hand. "H--Hermione," Hermione stammered.

"You have a last name, Hermione?" Remus asked.

"Er...no," Hermione squeaked. James grinned and she could see his son in him.

"Well, Hermione with no last name, it's a pleasure to meet you," Sirius said, winking at her as he and his friends walked to their seats.

Hermione took her seat and the red-haired girl with a Head Girl badge on her robes sitting beside her rolled her eyes. "I see you've met Remus, James, and Sirius," she said. The redhead didn't catch the longing look James sent her before going back to talking to Remus and Sirius.

"Yeah," Hermione said. "They're...interesting."

"They're jerks," the girl said. "I'm Lily Evans."

"L--Lily?" Hermione stammered and the girl nodded slowly as if Hermione was crazy. An elderly man entered the classroom and Draco finally took note of how weird things were. Hermione jumped to her feet. "P--Professor, I suddenly don't feel so well? C--can I visit...er...the nurse?" She wasn't sure if Madam Pomfrey was still here.

"Uh...yes...Miss...?" the professor stated.

"Um...de Lioncourt?" Hermione stammered. She would have given anything to have one of Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes right now.

"Yes, Miss de Lioncourt, you may," the professor said.

"I'll accompany Miss...de Lioncourt," Draco volunteered. "I don't feel so well either."

"Very well," the professor stated, seeming overwhelmed. Sirius raised his hand and the professor glared at him. "No, you may **not** go to the nurse, Mr. Black."

Draco and Hermione exited the classroom and as soon as they were clear of the Arithmancy room, Hermione dragged him up the stairs to the empty Astronomy Tower. The Astronomy Tower was hardly ever used except as a rendezvous for couples seeking a quiet getaway. It was well-furnished with soft carpets and a daybed as Professor Sinastra had often fallen asleep during her late-night searches of the sky. It was used as her office every once in a while.

Draco stared at the girl with a cock of his pale brow. "Why, Granger, on the first date?" he taunted.

"Shut up, Malfoy. We need to talk to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione announced.

"I'm not talking to that half-witted old bat, he's off his bloody rocker," Draco scowled.

"Professor Dumbledore **is not** off his rocker, Malfoy," Hermione said. "He's the only one that can help us out here."

"We don't **need** any help," Draco replied.

"Did you recognize **any** of those people in that classroom?" Hermione asked.

"No, but it's Advanced Arithmancy, there's only one class, all of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are in it," Draco shrugged it off.

"You may not have recognized any of those people but **I** did," Hermione stated. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a tattered old picture. "All of you that I haven't seen today, please leave the picture." Most of the people left except James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily. She showed the picture to Draco.

"So you have a picture of them," Draco rolled his eyes. "Get to the point, Mudblood."

"That's Lily and James Potter," Hermione said, ignoring Draco's comment and pointing at the happy couple. "They've been dead for fifteen years. You've met Professor Lupin, you know...the only **good** Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've had...the one that your **father** had sacked." She pointed at Remus sitting near them and then her finger flew to Sirius Black. "And that's Sirius Black; he died earlier this year because of your father's master." Hermione glared menacingly at him.

Draco scowled at Hermione. "Is there a point to this?"

"Damn it, Malfoy, I've seen dead people! And they were very alive and in their teens," Hermione stated.

"Okay, I admit. Dumbledore's not off his rocker, **you** are," Draco said.

"You can tell that to your father," Hermione said, looking past Draco. She had finally noticed the blonde that looked remarkably like Draco except his hair was longer and pulled into a ponytail. A blonde woman had unbuttoned his shirt and was now kissing his neck.

"I will," Draco said.

"Well, here's your chance," Hermione stated, turning the blonde around. Draco's jaw dropped as he saw the boy that could be his twin. "Now do you believe me?"

Draco turned around and winced, his face beet-red. "Blimey, Granger, the last thing a bloke wants to see is his father...like that," Draco said with a shudder.

"Care to join us, you two?" Lucius Malfoy's voice came.

"Father?" Draco whimpered as Hermione managed to keep her composure but blushed at the Lucius's comment, more out of embarrassment for Draco than for herself. She had once stumbled upon her parents like this and had been scarred ever since.

"N--no, thank you, we were, uh, just leaving. Going to find ourselves a nice, quiet dungeon or something..." Hermione stated, her face the color of Weasley hair.

"My, my, love, didn't know you were so kinky," Draco said and Hermione hit him upside the head as they exited the Astronomy Tower.

* * *


	2. Things That Were

Part 2:  
Things That Were...

Snape sat at his desk, glancing around the class, relieved that he had weeded out most of the idiots from the past five years. Merlin, he had **finally** gotten rid of Neville Longbottom. The thought of ridding the bumbling Gryffindor was almost enough for him to **give** points to Gryffindors. **Almost**. He could be relatively relaxed (except for the fact that Crabbe and Goyle had managed to stay in the class) to Snape's annoyance.

His dark eyes took in the classroom; Potter looked about ready to kill Gregory Goyle, Weasley glared at Vincent Crabbe, Granger's hand trembled with suppressed rage as she carefully measured the ingredients for the Animus Potion. A sadistic smile curved Snape's lips...sure the pairs were enjoyable. But they had a purpose as well. Under Dumbledore's orders, the professors had been doing all in their power to create a bond between the Houses. This had led Snape down the path he had chosen in partnering the Slytherins and Gryffindors.

He looked back at the _Witch Weekly_ crossword he had been filling out, thinking of the next day's lesson. Thankfully, he didn't have to keep that close an eye on anyone...excluding Crabbe and Goyle, of course. He paid attention to his class even as he tried to think up a eight-letter word for "horrible mistake," never missing a chance to take House points from the three Gryffindors. So how Draco's mistake got past him was something that Snape never did find out...

There was a loud explosion and Snape looked up, staring at the cauldron as it spewed its contents all over Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. "Granger! What on earth are you doing?" Professor Snape demanded as the cauldron exploded all over Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. He hadn't expected this from his two best students. He had made it that way so...they would benefit from each other's intelligence. He had rather hoped the two most-likely candidates for Head Boy and Girl would get over their differences.

He walked over to where they had been sitting and noticed that the two had disappeared with their satchels. Severus Snape groaned softly, rubbing his forehead. _What did they do to their potion?_ he thought, examining the pink substance and then it came to him. "Class is dismissed!" he yelled.

There was a murmur of curiosity through the class; there was still a while until the bell rang. "I said, get out!" he growled. The students hurriedly gathered their things. "Potter, Weasley, you stay." Harry Potter and Ron Weasley stopped mid-motion as the class scrambled out. "Get the Headmaster." The two dropped their things.

"Er...professor, what do you want us to tell him?" Ron asked.

"Five points from Gryffindor, each! Just do what I say," Snape stated. The two raced out of the room to avoid any more points being taken from their House. He frowned. "How could they have been so stupid?"

He frowned as shadows of things that were and things that had not yet happened taunted him. If the two ever got back, he wouldn't remember what had happened before...only what they had changed. He swallowed hard as he remembered a bushy-haired brunette and a pale platinum-blonde during his Arithmancy class on the second day of school in his seventh year. He knew exactly where Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had ended up...

The greasy-haired professor's black eyes turned to his crossword and he immediately knew what the elusive word was: disaster.


	3. Tales and Threats

Part 3:  
Tales and Threats  
(Friday, September 2, 1977)

The two walked through the halls of Hogwarts toward Dumbledore's office, each of them milling over their individual thoughts. They stopped in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Draco smirked at Hermione. "Do you just happen to know his password?"  
  
Hermione frowned, she hadn't thought of that...but Harry had told her that Professor Dumbledore did have a penchant for sweets. "Lemon drop?" The gargoyle made no movement. "Pepper imps?" Again, no movement. "Cockroach clusters?" No movement. "Sugar quills?" The gargoyle slid out of the way and a spiral staircase twirled upwards. She smiled smugly at Draco. "I just happen to know his password."  
  
The brunette climbed onto the spiral staircase, Draco following close behind. Hermione sighed with relief as Dumbledore's office came into view. It looked much like Harry and Ron had described, the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses snoozed in their frames. Fawkes the phoenix cocked its head and examined the two newcomers and Hermione noted that the phoenix was a beautiful creature with golden, red, and orange feathers. Dumbledore took his seat behind the large desk and examined the two over his half-moon spectacles. He didn't look that different, just about twenty or so years younger. "Hello, professor," Hermione said, "I'm Hermione Granger."  
  
"How may I help you?" the Headmaster asked.  
  
"Well...this is going to sound very odd, but it's the truth, I swear," Hermione said, explaining what had happened while Draco stood in complete silence.  
  
"Is this the truth, Mister...Malfoy?" Dumbledore inquired.  
  
"Er...yes, Professor," Draco stammered. "Granger's telling the truth."  
  
"This is a very interesting predicament you two have gotten yourselves into," Dumbledore stated. "I've never heard of a memory charm backfiring like that."  
  
"There has to be, you know, some...way to get back, right Professor?" Hermione whimpered. "I have to study for my N.E.W.T.s. A--and Harry and Ron'll never pass their classes if I don't help them."  
  
"Get a hold of yourself, Granger," Draco spat. "Potty and the Weasel can fend for themselves."  
  
"Shut up, ferret-boy!" Hermione snapped. Dumbledore smiled warmly, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.  
  
"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, I **do** hope you'll control yourselves," Dumbledore stated. "I'm not quite certain if there is a way for you to get back to your own time. I'll have Professor Flaherty working on it."  
  
"Professor...Flaherty?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yes, Professor Flaherty, our Potions Master," Dumbledore replied.  
  
"Oh," Hermione said. "I hope this is just a really, really bad dream."  
  
Draco snorted. "You're not the only one," he stated. "So, professor, what do you suggest we do until a potion is found?"  
  
"I suggest you take the classes that you were supposed to take this year," Dumbledore stated.  
  
"Advanced Potions, Advanced Arithmancy, Advanced Charms, Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced History of Magic, Advanced Care of Magical Creatures, Advanced Ancient Runes, Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, Advanced Herbology, Advanced Astronomy," Hermione rattled off.  
  
Draco frowned. "Bloody hell, you're in every single class I have," he muttered.  
  
"Of course I am, I made O.W.L.s in all my classes," Hermione replied airily.  
  
"Fantastic idea," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands. "You will go to every class together...that way there is less chance for change."  
  
"What do you mean 'less chance for change'?" Malfoy demanded.  
  
"We're in the past, Malfoy...everything we do changes something. We're not supposed to be here," she murmured softly, fingering the photograph in her pocket. Mad-Eye Moody had given it to her last summer on her request after Harry hadn't wanted it. Whenever she was about to give up, she'd look at the picture of the Order of the Phoenix and find her will and courage. All of those people (excluding Wormtail) had tried to stop Voldemort and many of them had lost. They were her inspiration.  
  
Dumbledore gazed at the girl for a long moment, no sense of mirth or merriment in his blue eyes...simply curiosity. She seemed upset about something out of her control, something that had nothing to do with her ending up back in time. She looked at Draco, her dark eyes unreadable. "We can't change anything...no matter how bad we want to."  
  
Draco eyed Hermione curiously. "Right, then," he stated. "Professor? Where are we supposed to sleep?"  
  
"Excellent question, Mr. Malfoy, I suppose you can share the Head Boy and Girl's dorms," Dumbledore answered. "But first, we will have to change your robes around. There would be some suspicion if a Gryffindor and Slytherin came to Hogwarts for their first year as prefects."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened as she carefully took off the prefect pin and Draco grimaced as he did the same. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore turned their robes into the standard issue black that they'd had first year before being Sorted.  
  
"Lily and James were nice...they're a lot like Harry," Hermione mused out loud as she tried to take her mind off of the fact that she was no longer a prefect.  
  
"Like Potter?" Draco scowled. "Perfect! I get to spend God knows how long with a Potter duplicate!"  
  
"Actually James is the original, Harry's the duplicate," Hermione corrected.  
  
"Whatever, I'm not spending any time with any Potters!" Draco stated, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.  
  
"Just shut up!" Hermione growled. Draco stared at the girl in surprise. "I'm sick of your holier-than-thou attitude, Malfoy. If you don't stop it, I'm going to make what happened to you on the train back home for the past two years seem like Heaven!" Hermione growled. "Guess what, Draco." The blonde seemed shocked that Granger had actually used his first name. "It's just you and me...no Harry, no Ron, no Crabbe, no Goyle. We both know that I can hex you so well that you can spend the rest of our time here at St. Mungo's!" A mischievous gleam shone in her golden-brown eyes and Draco felt a shiver of apprehension slide down his spine. "Or, ooh, maybe I can learn how to Transfigure you back into Draco Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret!"  
  
Blimey, Granger was devious...she'd have made a great Slytherin...well, except for the Mudblood part.


	4. Hermione and the Head Girl

Part 4:  
Hermione and the Head Girl  
(Friday, September 2, 1977 – Continued...)

Professor Dumbledore led the two to the Head Boy and Girl's quarters. Guarding the entrance was a likeness of Lily Evans and James Potter. Hermione arched a brow as James winked teasingly at her. "The portrait...it changes yearly," Dumbledore explained. "Dragon's Keep."

The painted people nodded and the portrait swung open. Dumbledore ducked and made his way into the Head Boy and Girl's common room. Lily Evans was poring over her notes and the scratch-scratch of her quill mingled with the laughter of James, Sirius, Remus, and a rat-faced chubby boy. Hermione stared at the fourth one with barely-concealed hatred. _Peter Pettigrew,_ Hermione thought, her stomach clenching. _Wormtail...Scabbers. He gave Lily and James to Voldemort on a silver platter! And he's the reason that Sirius died. Half of the Marauders are dead because of him!_

Draco noted her barely-disguised disgust with curiosity. Even she didn't look at **him** with that much hate and disgust. James stopped midway through an animated conversation which was obviously a tale of how he bravely rescued the Snitch in a Quidditch match. Peter frowned as James stopped his tale. _Obviously not the brightest, that one,_ Draco mused.

Sirius smirked. "Hermione...what brings you here?" He finally noticed the professor and the blonde boy beside her. _Damn, he looks familiar,_ Sirius mused as he examined Draco.

"Miss de Lioncourt and Mister--" Dumbledore eyed Draco.

"Aquilus," Draco stated with a curt nod.

"Yes, yes. Miss de Lioncourt and Mr. Aquilus will be sharing your quarters," Dumbledore explained. "They just transferred from the Agnitio Academy of Magic." Sirius looked like Christmas had come early.

Sirius winked at Hermione. "I'll make sure to tuck you in," Sirius stated.

"You will do no such thing, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said.

Hermione's eyes left Peter's as she heard Sirius's comment with a blush. Unconsciously, she moved closer to Draco and took his hand in hers. The entire thing was almost worth it, just to see the shocked look cross over the Slytherin's face. He regained his composure and shot a challenging look to Sirius. Sirius arched a dark brow as he examined the pale, thinner boy.

James shook his head slightly as he noticed his friend's behavior. Sirius was smitten with the brunette girl just like he himself was smitten with Lily. James could see why Sirius had become infatuated with her...the girl was a beautiful creature and the best part was that she didn't even notice it. He looked over his shoulder to watch Lily; she hadn't even noticed the Headmaster had entered their common room. She gingerly tucked a strand of her copper hair behind an ear and James felt a tug in his stomach.

"Miss Evans?" came Dumbledore's voice. Lily looked up and darted to her feet.

"Professor Dumbledore," Lily stated, blushing the color of her hair. Hermione smiled, Lily reminded her of Ginny Weasley for some reason. Maybe it was the red hair or the shyness...although; no one could call Ginevra Weasley shy anymore. She had blossomed since she'd first attended Hogwarts and had helped Hermione, Ron, Harry, Luna, and Neville in the siege of the Ministry of Magic last June...Hermione's eyes left Lily to meet Sirius's dark ones. _You can't change anything..._ she told herself, _no matter how much you want to. You have to let Wormtail betray James, Lily, and Harry. You have to let Bellatrix Lestrange torture the Longbottoms. You have to let Sirius Black die._ She felt tears begin to form in her eyes and she wiped them away on the sleeve of her robe. Sirius frowned as he saw the shimmer of tears in the girl's eyes and looked at his friends confused.

"Miss Evans, I'd like you to meet Miss Hermione de Lioncourt and Mr. Draco Aquilus," Dumbledore said and Lily smiled at Hermione. Hermione came out of her thoughts and smiled back.

"Hello, Hermione," Lily smiled. "Hello, Draco."

"They will be sharing the Head Boy and Girl quarters," Dumbledore said and Lily nodded.

"We've just transferred here from Agnitio Academy of Magic," Draco stated, taking Dumbledore's story.

Lily frowned and looked curiously at Draco. "Are you veela?" she asked curiously.

Draco blushed and Hermione did a double-take. _Oh...my...God, Draco Malfoy just **blushed**!_ Hermione thought.

"Part...my great-great grandmother on my father's side was a veela," Draco murmured, shoving a hand through his white-blonde hair.

"I never knew you were a veela," Hermione murmured. "That makes sense."

Draco smirked and arched a brow at Hermione. "You finally realize how much sex appeal I ooze?" he taunted.

Hermione snorted. "Give it up, ferret-boy," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and Sirius smirked at Malfoy in a "she's mine" kind of way. The brunette winced slightly and Malfoy raised an eyebrow toward Hermione in an "it's either him or me" kind of way.

Hermione frowned. It was a lose-lose situation...she could either pretend that Draco the Amazing Bouncing Ferret was her boyfriend or have her best friend's godfather Sirius "I-was-accused-of-killing-thirteen-people-with-one-curse-but-I-didn't-do-it-my-slimy-friend-did-it" Black a.k.a. Padfoot hit on her. What was wrong with these people? She had been hit on twice as many times here as she had back home: she'd even been propositioned with Draco to join his father in a foursome! She shuddered at the memory but couldn't help remembering that Lucius Malfoy's chest was pretty nice. _Wonder if Draco's chest is that nice,_ she thought.

Her eyes went wide as if someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over her head. _I just wondered about Dra--Malfoy's chest and thought that Lucius Malfoy was hot! What the **hell** is wrong with me? Oh right, they're veelas, those bastards have used their veela charm on me! Or I need sleep, that's it; a good, long nap,_ Hermione thought. _And the hitting on of me? Maybe the extra wolfbane and hellebore made some kind of pheromone toward the opposite sex? Okay, Draco isn't hitting on me but he's being nice...well, as nice as a Malfoy can be...er...correction, as nice as a Malfoy can be **without** unwanted naughty propositions. Or, hey, maybe it scrambled my brain to think Malfoy's hot?_

She frowned. _Okay...so I **have** thought Malfoy was hot before. So nope, it has to be the veela,_ she admitted to herself. _Or maybe this is some weird dream resultant from studying too much. Maybe I just need to go to sleep and I'll wake up finding out that I just fell asleep in Potions?_ She rather dreaded that confrontation if it were true, could almost **hear** Severus Snape telling her that she'd just lost fifty points from Gryffindor. And he'd do it too; she had no doubt about that.

"I'm really tired and I'd like to be shown my sleeping area," Hermione stated. Dumbledore nodded toward Lily.

"Miss de Lioncourt and Mr. Aquilus, I leave you in the capable hands of Lily Evans and James Potter," Dumbledore nodded and left the common room.

"Hermione, you know my idiot friends Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. This is Peter Pettigrew," James said, tapping the rat-faced boy's head. "I assume you know Lily Evans."

Lily glared at James and Hermione wondered **how** they had ever gotten together when they hated each other. Lily nodded toward a door with "Head Girl" carved on a brass plate on it. "Our room is through here," Lily said. She opened the door and Hermione noticed that it was larger than the room that she had shared with the rest of the sixth-year Gryffindor girls and only had two beds decorated in the red and gold of Gryffindor. There was also a great deal of posters of the Beatles covering the walls. A few of them were moving wizard type. "The Beatles were wizards?" she mused, examining one of the moving posters where the Beatles were performing "She Loves You."

"No," Lily smiled. "I charmed a few of the posters to do that. I absolutely love the Beatles."

"How long ago did they break up?" Hermione conversed.

"You're not Muggle-born, are you?" Lily sighed.

_Every Muggle-born would know about the Beatles,_ she realized. "I am...my parents just don't like them," Hermione blushed.

"Seven years ago and I'm still upset about it...Paul McCartney was my first crush after all," Lily stated, eyeing Hermione. _So it's 1977. Two years before I was even **born**..._ Hermione realized, her mother had been madly in love with the Beatles and the brunette knew a lot about them. Lily nodded toward the bed farthest away from the door. "That's my bed." The redhead gestured toward another door by the door to the common room. "That's the bathroom."

"You share a bathroom with the Head Boy?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening. _That means I'll have to share a bathroom with Malfoy,_ she thought. _And it's pretty much a given that Malfoy's going to be Head Boy next year unless the Fates and all the deities are on my side and I'll be shown mercy with Harry or Ron being Head Boy. But judging by how dismal their grades will be since I'm not there to help them, there isn't the slightest chance of that happening._

Lily looked displeased. "Unfortunately, yes. If it wasn't bad enough being a Gryffindor with him. How on earth he got Head Boy with all the points he's lost us. That...and he disappears for nights at a time," Lily sighed. Hermione knew why this was: it had to be a full moon and James was spending the night as Prongs with Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail. "As per Head Boy, it was either him or Severus Snape, who's just as bad." Lily's anger was evident on her face and she glared menacingly at the bathroom door. "I tried to help Snape once and he called me a 'Mudblood.' Of course, the whole stupid thing wouldn't have happened if James hadn't hexed him."

Hermione seriously began to doubt that Harry James Potter would ever be born at the one step forward, a million steps back rate that his parents were going at. "Is James really that bad?" Hermione asked.

"Yes...he's a right prat. He's always casting spells on people," Lily stated, frowning as she remembered the display of James using his wand to hold Severus Snape upside down two years ago. "He always looks for trouble."

Hermione smiled softly, Harry Potter was a lot like his father. "I have a couple of friends back home like that. There's Harry and Ron, we've been friends since first year and the two of them are **always** looking for trouble but they're not that bad. Ron's older brothers are pains, they're good guys, but they're still pains..." she smiled as she remembered the Weasley twins. "James and his friends kind of remind me of them." Lily frowned and began laying out her clothes for bed.

The brunette looked out the window and noticed the moon would soon be full and Hermione decided that if she was still here during the full moon she'd follow the Marauders. She knew it'd be easier said than done because of James's invisibility cloak. Hermione had memorized the bump that would freeze the Whomping Willow and had been magical ways to move the bump. Finally figuring it out **after** that toad Umbridge had found out about Dumbledore's Army. If she had figured it out earlier, maybe they could have met in the Shrieking Shack like Sirius had suggested. Her eyes turned to Lily and she frowned. _I don't have any clothes!_ she thought wildly.


	5. The First Mission

Part 5:  
The First Mission  
(Friday, September 2, 1977 – Continued...)

In the common room, Draco, James, Sirius, and Remus were sizing each other up as Peter's eyes bounced from the Marauders to the new boy. Sirius's arms were crossed over his chest and he stood at his full height. He was a little taller than Draco but much beefier. Draco arched a brow. "Problem, mate?" he asked cheekily. _My father would kill me if he knew I wasn't attempting to kill Potter's godfather,_ he thought. _But my father also hit on me earlier so I don't think he'll mind that much. I can always hold that over his head when I get back._ Draco let a sadistic smile pass over his lips as he thought of **that** occurrence:

_"Where have you been, Draco?" Lucius would say._

"I went back in time with Granger," Draco would reply.

"You were with her (enter x amount of how long he was, would be -- whatever -- with her) and you didn't kill Potter's little Mudblood?" Lucius would say.

Draco would frown. "Of course not, I was emotionally scarred by the fact that my father hit on me when I went back in time," Draco would state.

"I did no such thing!" Lucius would reply hotly.

"You did! Remember? 'Care to join us, you two.' You hit on **me**...and Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's little Mudblood," Draco would come back.

Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter eyed the devious look on the boy's face. They exchanged a look and they each nodded. "So, Aquilus, do you like trouble?" James asked.

Draco was pulled out of his reverie and eyed The Boy That Would Be the Boy Who Lived's Father. "Can't get enough of it," Draco stated.

"You see, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I...we're the Marauders and we could always use another troublemaker to make Filch pull out his hair," James offered. "And since this is our last year, we need someone to pass it on to."

_They're Animagi, they could teach me. Ha, see if Granger can do that!_ Draco thought. He let a wicked grin that would rival his father's pass over his lips. "Sounds like a plan to me," Draco said, pushing out the reaction his father and Professor Snape would have if they ever found out that he was making an alliance with Gryffindors; not just **any** Gryffindors but the future-father and godfather of his future-nemesis, Harry Potter.

"End of the month's a full moon, meet us by the Whomping Willow," Sirius said.

"Sirius, that's not a good idea," Remus said with a hard edge in his voice. "I still haven't forgiven you for what you did to Snape."

"Don't worry, this one's nothing like Snape," Sirius said.

"Snape's a tosser. This one has potential," James stated.

"Wh--what about your girlfriend?" Peter stammered.

"My girlfriend?" Draco asked and the four nodded toward the Head Girl's quarters. Draco's eyes widened. _They think that that **Mudblood** is my girlfriend!_ he thought. _It had its quirks...Granger will be absolutely pissed that I told her boyfriend's father that she was indeed **my** girlfriend._ "Oh, Mione? She'll be fine without me...for a while. She's sometimes clingy but she does the most amazing thing..." he trailed off, closing his eyes and pretending to remember something very delightfully naughty.

"Go on..." Peter said.

"Don't mind Peter, he has no sex life," Sirius stated. "But you **can** go on..."

"She'd kill me...she pretends to be such a goody-goody but when you get her naked...she's anything but," Draco stated, delighting in his torment of the girl.

"Wonder if Lily's like that," James wondered out loud.

"James is smitten with Lily...she doesn't even notice him though," Remus explained and James Potter blushed. He eyed Draco curiously and the platinum-blonde shivered under the boy's gaze.

James frowned and gathered the Marauders in a huddle. "I don't trust him," Remus stated.

"Well, you've got the most to lose if he betrays us," Sirius stated. The "if" sounded a lot like a "when."

"We can put him through tests," James stated. "Each of us will come up with a task for him to complete...and if he passes each of them, we'll let him in. Okay, boys?"

Sirius and Remus took the longest to decide. Peter agreed immediately and Remus gnawed his bottom lip as he contemplated. "Okay...but I'll Obliviate his memory if he even **thinks** of betraying us," the werewolf stated.

Sirius grudgingly agreed to the thought of letting Draco into the Marauders. "Who's first?" he asked, his dark eyes lighting with mischief as he thought of his task.

"Peter," James said.

"Me?" Peter squeaked. "Oh, I know! He could sneak down to the kitchens and bring us something to eat?"

"Is food all you ever think about?" Sirius sighed.

"It works...if he can sneak to the kitchens undetected; I think he'd make a good Marauder," James said. "We need some kind of reward to get him to go though."

"What about letting him use your cloak?" Remus asked. James bit his bottom lip and nodded.

"Now that that's taken care of," James said. The four left the huddle. "We have a mission for you. If you succeed, you'll have three more tasks and then you can be one of us." "Why--" Draco bit off the rest of his response. _Me having to stoop to doing tasks for someone!_ he thought bitterly. _But it's worth it to become an Animagus._ "Okay...what's in it for me?" he asked.

The four boys led the blonde into the Head Boy's room. Two four-poster beds were in the large room, both bedecked in scarlet and gold. _Bloody Gryffindors,_ Draco thought in distaste. James opened the trunk at the end of his bed and pulled out a cloak. "You get to use this," James said.

Draco frowned. "A cloak?" he said disdainfully.

"I guess it's time for us to let you in on one of our secrets," James chuckled. "This isn't just **any** cloak." He threw it on over his shoulders and his head became suspended in midair, no body holding it up.

"An Invisibility Cloak," Draco stated. _Of course! I didn't imagine Potter's head floating, he was wearing an Invisibility Cloak,_ he mused.

"Your mission--" James started.

"Should you choose to accept it," Peter interjected. Sirius, Remus, James, and Draco gave the boy looks.

"Is to get some dinner from the kitchens," James continued.

"Okay, where are the kitchens?" Draco asked.

"That's what you have to find out," James said, tossing Draco the cloak.

"Bloody hell," the blonde muttered. The Marauders grinned at him as he slipped on the cloak and disappeared.

The Head Boy's door to the common room opened and closed. "Do you think he'll make it without being caught?" Peter asked.

"Not a chance," Sirius smirked. "Even **with** the cloak."


	6. For the Love of Pyjamas

Part 6:  
For the Love of Pyjamas  
(Friday, September 2, 1977 – Continued...)

Draco exited the Head Boy quarters and found Hermione in the common room. She was pacing and obviously trying to think of something. He found himself hoping that she wasn't trying to figure out how to get back. He leaned against the wall and watched the brunette pace. "Still awake? Figured a goody-goody like you'd either be studying or sleeping."  
  
Hermione jumped. "You're really annoying," she sighed.  
  
"Oh, Granger! You wound me with your insignificant words," Draco said melodramatically.  
  
Hermione frowned and looked around the room. Her eyes widened when she found herself unable to find Draco. "Where are you?"  
  
"I'm right here," Draco smirked. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she headed toward the source of the voice. She reached out an unseeing hand right in front of his face and moving carefully closer. Her fingers brushed some invisible fabric and her hand clenched. She pulled her hand back, full of the cloak and Draco was revealed.  
  
Draco's eyes widened in shock. "How'd you--?" he stammered.  
  
"You stole James's Invisibility Cloak!" the brunette scowled.  
  
"Only a little, he'll have it back tomorrow," he stated, taking it back from her.  
  
"And Slytherins are honest," Hermione muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
"Why were you pacing anyway?" the blonde demanded.  
  
"I was trying to think of a way to get clothes," Hermione stated. Her eyes widened in triumph. "The Room of Requirement!"  
  
"What?" Draco asked.  
  
"It's a room that turns into whatever you need it for. I'm sure it'll have clothes if we need them badly enough," Hermione answered.  
  
"Okay..." Draco muttered. "Is it anywhere near the kitchens?"  
  
Hermione frowned. "Why do you want to know where the kitchens are?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I'm hungry and I promised I'd get the boys some food," Draco said.  
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You, Draco Malfoy, are going to get something for someone else? Are you feeling well, do you need to see Madam Pomfrey or whoever the nurse is?" Hermione stated.  
  
"Shut up, Mudblood," Draco scowled.  
  
"In that case, I don't know where the kitchens are," she scowled and started toward the door.  
  
"It's after curfew," the blonde stated with a smirk.  
  
"And I'm a prefect," Hermione stated.  
  
"Were a prefect," Draco drawled.  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"You **were** a prefect...not anymore," the boy said and Hermione reached to touch her uniform where the prefect's badge usually was. "I **do** have this nifty little Invisibility Cloak though. With more than enough room for two."  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione scowled.  
  
"We go to the Room of Requirement and then you take me to the kitchens," Draco said.  
  
"Fine," Hermione sighed. They slipped under the Invisibility Cloak and headed out of the common room. "Scoot over."  
  
"I **am** over," Draco hissed.  
  
"Shut up, we're going to get caught," Hermione whispered.  
  
"Stop hogging the cloak, Mud--" he growled. He was cut off as Hermione stomped on his foot. "Ow!"  
  
"Oops, was that your foot?" Hermione asked innocently. They miraculously made it to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy without being heard by a prefect or Filch.  
  
"Concentrate on what you really need and it should appear," Hermione whispered to Draco. The two concentrated and then Hermione opened the door. She let out a sigh of relief: inside was a wide array of robes and clothes that put Madame Malkin's and Gladrags to shame. That and two trunks. The two filled their trunks with the robes, uniforms, pajamas, and underclothes. Hermione blushed as she realized that Draco Malfoy wore silk boxers. She closed her trunk before he could see her underclothes. She Reduced their trunks into the size of matchbooks and they carefully tucked them into the pockets of their robes that also held their wands.  
  
"Now, the kitchens," Draco said, Hermione sighed and led him down some stone stairs into a brightly-lit corridor decorated with mostly paintings of food. She stopped in front of a painting with a silver bowl full of fruits.  
  
"Tickle the pear," Hermione said.  
  
Draco coughed noisily. "What?" he managed.  
  
"You're disgusting," Hermione scowled, reaching out and tickling the green pear which giggled then turned into a doorknob. She opened the door and they entered the kitchen where hundreds of house-elves bustled about. She shrugged off the Invisibility Cloak, leaving Draco still covered by his portion and the house-elves immediately surrounded her, offering plates of delicious food and frosty mugs of butterbeer.  
  
Her stomach growled mercilessly as she realized that she hadn't eaten since lunch. Draco pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and was also besieged by the house-elves. The two ate their fill silently and then took some back to the common room. Hermione exited to the Head Girl's room and Draco entered the Head Boy's room, still hidden under the cloak.  
  
The four Marauders were playing a game of Exploding Snap on James's bed. In a dramatic gesture, Draco tossed off the cloak. The four boys stared at him in shock as they noticed his hands were full of food.  
  
"That was brilliant," Peter murmured, his beady little eyes full of pleasure. The four ate the food taken from the kitchens.  
  
Remus stretched. "I'd better go, it's almost time for patrol," he said. "It was nice meeting you, Draco."  
  
"You too, Remus," Draco said. Remus led Sirius and Peter from the Head Boy's room and apparently to the Gryffindor tower. James yawned fitfully and changed into his pajamas and went to bed.  
  
Draco put James's Invisibility Cloak in the Head Boy's trunk, changed into a pair of green and silver plaid pajama bottoms and lie down. He was asleep in seconds.

* * *

While Draco and his new friends munched on the food that she had helped him nick from the kitchens, Hermione changed into a set of blue pajamas with white crescent moons, suns, and stars dancing over it and crawled into bed.  
  
She simply stared up at the hangings to her bed for what seemed like hours. Her brain just wouldn't shut down. So much had happened that day. She had gone back in time nineteen years. It was a lot even for Hogwarts' biggest brain. There had to be a way to process everything.  
  
She sat up and rifled in her satchel, she withdrew the diary that her parents had gotten her for her birthday last year (they hadn't known about the Tom Riddle disaster). She had never written in it but she felt that she had to now. Maybe a warning for her future-past self? Hermione winced, this time travel was giving her a headache. It was easy with the Time-Turner. A few hours here, a few hours there...no big change. But an entire lifetime? That was a change. She began to write:

_September 2, 1977_

Today has been the most eventful day of my life. It started off simply enough in 1996...I had been in Professor Severus Snape's Potions class on the first day of my sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was partnered with an unbelievable git named Draco Malfoy and he messed up our Memory Potion by adding twice as much hellebore and wolfbane as the potion required.  
  
The potion also included thyme and thistledown; it is widely known that if you make a potion that has thistledown, thyme, hellebore, and wolfbane in it you have to have equal amounts of the ingredients or the potion becomes unstable. (Obviously, Malfoy never read Most Potente Potions_, or he would have known this.)  
  
My Memory Potion with Malfoy turned into a time travel potion and Malfoy and I ended up in 1977. We met Malfoy's father, Lucius, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Lily Evans, James "Prongs" Potter, Sirius "Padfoot" Black, Remus "Moony" Lupin, and Peter "Wormtail" Pettigrew.  
  
I'm not really certain why I'm writing this down, I just felt like I needed to as an explanation to my friends in the future, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Harry and Ron, if you're reading this...don't worry, I'm perfectly fine. I hope to return back to the future as soon as humanly possible._

Love,  
Hermione Jane Granger

Hermione glanced over her diary and decided that she'd leave it with Professor Dumbledore just before she returned to her time so Ron and Harry wouldn't worry too much about her. Before she went to sleep she cast a secrecy charm on the book so that only someone she **wanted** to read it could.


	7. Of Gryffindors and Slytherins

Part 7:  
Of Gryffindors and Slytherins  
(Saturday, September 3, 1977)

Hermione frowned as she awoke to "Twist and Shout" by the Beatles playing. She looked around the room curiously. _Where am I?_ she wondered. Then it all came back to her. _In the past, Lily's room, Beatles posters._ The Beatles posters singing had indeed awakened her.

Lily stretched out and yawned. "Thanks for the wake up, boys." She winked at the poster and Ringo winked back. "I love those posters."

Hermione nodded. "They make a good wake-up call," she stated. With a frown, she thought about what she knew about Lily and James. She knew things about them that their own **son** didn't know. It was sad. Harry never got to know that his mother was mad about the Beatles; he never got to know how entertaining his father was.

She shoved a curl behind her ear and stepped out of bed. She wiggled her toes and headed toward the bathroom. "James is in there," Lily said, flushing.

Hermione arched a brow at her new friend. "Oh?" she asked.

Lily looked mortified. "He didn't lock the door." She grimaced.

"Was he really that bad looking?" Hermione questioned.

"Unfortunately...no," Lily sighed. "But I didn't want to see him **naked**! He's James Potter after all."

"He's a Seeker, right? Aren't they supposed to have nice bodies?" Hermione said distractedly, inwardly cursing at her derailment of thought. _Blame Parvati and Lavender,_ she told herself.

"He's also my mortal enemy," Lily stated.

"Things change, circumstances arise." Hermione shrugged, blushing.

"An hour." Lily rolled her eyes. "He has to 'artfully' muss his hair. Honestly, I've never met a vainer man."

Hermione snorted. "You've obviously never been that close to Draco Mal--Aquilus," Hermione caught herself. "Draco is so vain."

"It's the veela in him. Veelas are extremely vain," Lily said. "I did an extra credit research project about veelas for History of Magic."

"They're scary when they're angry," Hermione said, shuddering as she remembered the Quidditch World Cup.

"It must take a lot of patience to date one," Lily said, her voice soft with understanding.

"Date--oh, you mean me and Draco?" Hermione asked, wincing at her poor grammar. "Draco **and** me."

Lily nodded. "So what's the story?" Lily asked.

Hermione sunk onto her bed. "I wish I could tell you...but I'm not even sure," Hermione stated. She wasn't liking this heart-to-heart girl moment. She strode across the room and knocked on the door. "Hurry up in there."

"Wait your turn," came James's voice.

"Men," Lily sighed. "I'm a girl and I don't even spend that much time in the bathroom. It sucks being Head Girl...sometimes." A thoughtful look passed over the redhead's face.

Hermione smiled at Lily. She liked her friend's mum more and more. "Lily and I need to take showers, so get out of there" She scowled at the door. The shower ended and Hermione heard a door close. Hermione entered the bathroom, making sure to lock both doors. She took a quick shower, Lily following after.

Hermione got dressed in one of the school uniforms she'd found in the Room of Requirement as Lily showered. When the redhead reappeared, she dressed and the two left the Head Girl's room. They were early so Lily let Hermione look over her notes for yesterday's classes. Hermione was impressed by her meticulous note-taking, much like her own. She already knew most of the things in Lily's notes and figuring in the fact that Lily was a year ahead of her, Hermione Granger wasn't going to be behind.

Eventually, Draco and James appeared from the Head Boy's room and the four started out. "I suppose they'll Sort you," Lily stated.

"Sort me?" Hermione asked. "I'm just a...visitor, why would they need to Sort me?" The brunette frowned.

"To tell what House gets your points," Lily replied, shrugging.

Hermione sighed. _They didn't sort the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, so why me?_ she mused as they entered to the Great Hall. It didn't look much different from the Hogwarts Hermione knew...except the Head Table. Most of the staff was the same: Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, and Professor Flitwick. Professor Snape wasn't there and there were two professors that Hermione didn't know; Hermione guessed that one of them was Professor Flaherty but she had no clue who the other teacher was.

"I have a special announcement to make," Professor Dumbledore said and the Great Hall was silent. "I would like to introduce Mr. Draco Aquilus and Miss Hermione de Lioncourt; they have transferred to Hogwarts from the Agnitio Academy of Magic in Salisbury. Please welcome them."

The Great Hall was filled with applause and Hermione blushed darkly under the school's scrutiny. "Due to the fact that they were delayed from the Sorting Ceremony, they will be Sorted now," Dumbledore said. Professor McGonagall disappeared and reappeared with the Sorting Hat and a stool.

"Draco Aquilus," Professor McGonagall said and Draco took a seat on the stool. The Sorting Hat was placed on Draco's head.

"Well, how odd," came the Sorting Hat's voice in Draco's head. "You are very ambitious, Mr. Malfoy...but your ambitions have changed greatly recently. Defying both your father and a very powerful wizard is a very brave thing to do...I know just where to put you." Draco stiffened noticeably and Hermione frowned. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione Granger came very near to passing out at the Sorting Hat's proclamation. _Draco...Malfoy...was...just...Sorted...into...Gryffindor?_ Hermione asked herself. The Gryffindors including Lily, James, and the rest of the Marauders clapped enthusiastically. Draco looked sick as he made his way to the Gryffindor table and sitting by Remus. James and Peter clapped him on the shoulder. _What happened last night?_

"Hermione de Lioncourt," McGonagall said and Hermione made her way to the stool, knees wobbling slightly. She had been nervous last time she'd been Sorted but this...this was much, much worse.

The Hat was placed on Hermione's bushy head and Hermione feared the outcome. "Brave, yes...but your bravery has turned into ambition as of late, Miss Granger," the Hat told her. "SLYTHERIN!"

When the Slytherins cheered, Draco looked as if he was going to fall out of his seat as did Lily, James, and the rest of the Marauders. The brunette's body was numb as she climbed off the stool and walked to the Slytherin table, where she slumped down beside a dark-haired boy who was poring over an ancient tome. She suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore. _I'm a Slytherin, how can I be a Slytherin? I'm a Muggle-born for Merlin's sake!_ she thought anxiously. _Then again, Voldemort was half-Muggle._

The boy looked up from his book and stared at the girl who had sat by him in shock. Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief; she knew this boy. The same pale skin that looked as if sunlight had never touched it, greasy black hair, black eyes, and the hooked nose. She had just sat by Professor Snape as a teenager. "S--Snape?" she squeaked.

He frowned and then glared at her. Hermione found herself frightened of that glare even when he was nineteen years younger than he was. She could almost hear him telling her that she'd lost points from Gryffindor. _Which couldn't happen now, I'm a Slytherin,_ she scowled. "How did you know my name?" he asked.

Hermione scoffed. "I was told," she said evasively.

"Who told you?" he scowled.

"It's none of your concern," she stated. Desperate to change the subject she added, "What are you reading?"

"_Potion Theory and Application_," he said.

"So you like Potions?" Hermione asked. _I'm having an almost-civil conversation with Professor Snape. What now, will pigs start flying?_ Hermione mused.

Snape nodded. "They're more scientific than most magic courses," Snape replied. "You can do so many things with potions."

Hermione nodded. "Yes...you can bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death," she murmured. Snape looked at her in admiration and Hermione froze. _Oh sweet Merlin, no!_ she thought. _Not Snape too! If it isn't weird enough with Sirius and Lucius!_

But Snape wasn't attracted to her in the "date" way but in the friend way, thankfully enough. The two spent breakfast talking about Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. "You can make a corporeal Patronus?" Snape asked.

Hermione blushed. "Yes...my Patronus is an otter," Hermione stated, flattered. "I learned it last year."

"Wow," Snape said, smiling. Hermione realized that this was the first time that she had seen Severus Snape smile at **anyone**, even his beloved Slytherins. She was actually surprised that she was finding Snape as entertaining as Ron and Harry.

From the Gryffindor table, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Draco stared in shock as Hermione talked to Snape. "I can't bloody well believe it; your girlfriend's talking with Severus Snape!" Sirius stated.

"Snape!" Draco demanded, eying the two. _Bloody hell, he actually looks **young**!_ Draco mused. He felt a strange sensation as he watched. Was that...jealousy? _No...not jealousy. Malfoys **don't** get jealous over Mudbloods. It's just...disgust. I'm disgusted that she's making Snape smile._

James smirked. "Don't worry about your bird, mate...Snivellus doesn't stand a chance with her," the dark-haired boy said.

"I know...I just never expected Hermione to end up a Slytherin," Draco stated with a frown. "I mean, she's a Mu...ggle-born. And I thought Slytherin was all about purebloods."

"More about ambition...but blood's a big thing," Remus replied. "But I wouldn't recommend you telling anyone of her lineage. The last Muggle-born in Slytherin didn't last very long." Draco frowned, curious at the emotion that Remus's words caused to stir in him.

"Slytherins are a bad lot, you know," Sirius stated and Draco chose to ignore that comment.

"They can't **all** be bad," Lily piped up. "Hermione's nice."

The Marauders ignored Lily and eyed the brunette across the room. "But that's Snivellus!" Sirius whined.

Lily rolled her emerald eyes. "Honestly, if anyone has a reason to dislike Severus Snape, it's me. You've heard what he calls me."

"He's a git, Li--I mean, Evans," James stated.

"Smooth, Potter," Draco muttered under his breath to his newfound friend. The dark-haired boy blushed darkly, mussing his hair nervously. Sirius sighed and Remus rolled his eyes. "Try to be nice to the girl..."

"Is that how you got Hermione?" Peter inquired.

Draco took a sip of the pumpkin juice and sputtered it out all over Peter Pettigrew as he realized what the rat-faced boy had said. "Oh...yes, right," he stated. The four eyed the blonde curiously.

"So...you're not dating her?" Sirius asked, casting a glance at the brunette who was laughing at something Snape had said.

Draco scowled at Sirius. "Sirius, mate, the girl's mine," Draco murmured. He cocked his head curiously as he felt a shiver go up his spine. _Since when did I get all possessive about Herm--Granger? Possessive and jealous of Hermione Granger? Bloody hell, I'm going to be disowned,_ Draco thought. He suppressed a shudder as he watched his fake girlfriend talking to Severus Snape and the scariest part was that Snape was...**smiling**; really, truly smiling. It was creepy.


	8. Sorting out the Sorting

Part 8:  
Sorting Out the Sorting  
(Saturday, September 3, 1977 - Continued...)

To say that Hermione Granger was simply shocked about the day's events was like saying that Earth reversing its orbit around the Sun was just a "little change." Hermione "Know-it-All, Prefect Mudblood" Granger had just been Sorted into Slytherin House. And was making friends with her loathed Potions professor and future Head of Slytherin House, Severus Snape. Hermione was amazed at how wrong she'd been about the sallow-faced, hook-nosed prat of a man. He was actually quite -- perish the thought -- **nice**. Ron and Harry were going to be having kittens when they read about it in her journal.  
  
"Hermione?" Snape asked as he noticed the secretive grin on her face.  
  
"I was just thinking of my friends," Hermione stated. "They'd never think I'd be...here."  
  
"Here?" Snape asked, arching a black brow curiously.  
  
"In Slytherin," she clarified. "I must have read _Hogwarts, A History_ a hundred times...I'm just not used to the thought of being a Slytherin." She would never add the fact that she was Muggle-born, God knows what the Slytherins would do to her if they found out.  
  
"What's wrong with being a Slytherin?" Snape asked with a smirk.  
  
"Well...I just never thought myself to be that ambitious...other than schoolwork, of course. I'm dead clever; I could've seen myself as a Ravenclaw. I'm a loyal friend; I could've been a Hufflepuff. I guess...I'm brave, I could have been a Gryffindor," she murmured, blushing.  
  
"The Sorting Hat sees inside you. It wouldn't have put you in Slytherin if it didn't think you'd make a good Slytherin," Snape explained.  
  
She nodded. _This is totally and completely unbelievable,_ Hermione thought. _I'm having a heart-to-heart with Snape._ She shivered off the weird sensation she was getting from this. "I've heard a lot of bad things about Slytherins," the brunette finally admitted.  
  
Snape nodded. "It's understandable," he stated.  
  
Hermione looked at him curiously. "That's all you can say? 'It's understandable'?" she asked.

* * *

Across the room, Draco, the Marauders and Lily watched the Slytherins. A few other Gryffindors noticed the way the blonde was watching the new Slytherin and Severus Snape. "Bloody hell, Snivellus is actually talking to a **girl**," a Gryffindor stated.

* * *

Snape hadn't answered Hermione's question, his gaze had settled on the blonde woman that had been making out with Lucius Malfoy the night before. There was a niggling feeling of recognition in the back of her mind. "Who is that?" she asked.  
  
"That's Narcissa Black," Snape said, his voice had a saccharine edge to it. _Snape...fancies Draco's mum?_ Hermione thought, forcing back laughter. Narcissa was a pretty blonde woman, her riotous golden curls framing an angelic face and her bright blue eyes danced as she laughed. _Lucius -- no, no, Malfoy Senior -- must have given Draco -- bloody hell, Malfoy -- his eyes,_ Hermione noted. She frowned as she realized that she'd been paying enough attention to Draco to know his eye color. Hermione shook off that thought and noticed that Narcissa didn't have the look that Hermione had seen on her before: the look of someone that had smelled something rotten. Maybe it had been Lucius's influence?  
  
The blonde looked young and carefree and Hermione felt a wince of sympathy for her. In three years, Narcissa Black would be married to Lucius Malfoy and have that horrible prat of a son named Draco. The brunette scowled across the room at Draco and he smirked in return. She turned to face Severus. "You fancy Narcissa?" Hermione asked.  
  
Severus Snape's face flushed crimson and he stammered. "Er...well...I...um," he stuttered.  
  
Hermione giggled. "Oh, so you **do** fancy her," she stated and Severus gave her a less-practiced version of the scowl that he sent so many Gryffindors -- especially her -- in the future. She was chastised. The brunette instantly stopped her laughter and began to examine the bacon and eggs on her plate like it was the most interesting thing she'd ever seen.  
  
"Sorry. It's...just..." he sighed. Hermione was still caught on the part where Severus Snape had said he was sorry. "My family used to be one of the greatest pureblood wizarding families. Then my father--" his dark eyes hardened to the look that Hermione was most familiar with "--he gambled away our fortunes...and the family name was tarnished. There's no way a Black would ever marry a Snape now."  
  
Hermione had the strongest urge to comfort her potions professor. She patted his back and he flinched but he didn't pull away. "She's not good enough for you, Severus," she reassured him, rubbing her hand in comforting circles.  
  
Realization dawned on her about his flinch...she had read in a psychology book that sometimes people that were abused were more likely to pull away from human interaction. Mingling it with the visions that Harry had gotten from Snape during their Occlumency lessons made a picture that Hermione didn't want. Snape's father had abused him. Her jaw clenched and she wanted nothing more than to hit her professor's father good and hard with some kind of nasty hex.

* * *

Sirius saw the scowl that Hermione sent Draco's way and the wheels in his head began to turn. The two obviously **weren't** a couple as Draco had proclaimed the night before. A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth and fell away as he noticed the flush creep over Severus's sallow skin. She laughed at his expression, golden-brown eyes filled with mirth and silvery tears. He sent her a glare and she was instantly serious again.  
  
Sirius fought his urge to beat Severus to a bloody pulp while Draco watched, amused. The blonde frowned as he noticed something. Had Snape been looking at his mother? He blanched as a sudden unwanted vision of Narcissa Malfoy and Severus Snape involved in a clandestine affair made his stomach roil and his hands clench.  
  
Sirius frowned as he noticed the sudden angry/sickened expression that passed over Draco's face and believed it was caused by Hermione's closeness to Snape. He sighed. _Maybe they are involved after all..._ he mused.


	9. The Kiss of the Serpent

Part 9:  
The Kiss of the Serpent  
(Saturday, September 3, 1977 - Continued...)

Severus bit his bottom lip and looked at Hermione nervously. "T--thanks," he stammered.

"It's the truth, Severus, Narcissa **isn't** good enough for you," she stated.

The bell rang, Snape hurried to his first class of the day; he was obviously still unnerved by her affectionate back rubs...truth be told, so was Hermione. _I wonder what he's going to think in the future..._ she mused. _Maybe he'll stop taking so many points from Gryffindor -- or at least me -- because I remind him of, well, me._

With a shake, Hermione brought herself back and realized that she needed her schedule...and, egads, the password to the Slytherin dungeons. She noticed Draco had already asked Remus Lupin about the Gryffindor password.

She searched the Great Hall for any straggling prefects and her eyes widened as she finally noticed a dark-haired Slytherin prefect with cold gray eyes and a long face. "Oh, hi, what's our password?" the girl asked.

His dark eyes slid down her body speculatively, a smirk playing at his lips. Hermione shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. "Sinister," he murmured.

"Oh, well...that's--that's a very Slytherin password," Hermione murmured. "I'm Hermione de Lioncourt. Sixth year." She held out her hand in greeting.

His lips brushed her knuckles and Hermione jerked her hand away. She suddenly felt dirty. She didn't trust this guy. "Welcome to Slytherin, Hermione. It's certainly the best House. I'm Antonin Dolohov," he stated. "Seventh year."

A shiver danced its cold fingers down her spine as she examined the man that had attacked her at the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries. "I--It was nice to meet you, Antonin," she stammered. By the time her conversation with him was over, most of the Slytherins and Gryffindors had left the Great Hall.

"I suppose you need to find the Slytherin House then?" he asked.

"N--no, I'll manage on my own," she stated. Antonin nodded and exited the Great Hall. Draco Malfoy had obviously told his fellow Gryffindors that he could manage on his own as well. She walked across the Great Hall to the blonde. "Need some help?"

"What? Oh, it's you," the boy drawled. "Of course not."

"So...where's your House located?" _Or for that matter, where **my** House is located,_ she added mentally. "You know, where our **schedule** is."

"It's...it's..." Draco stammered.

"Need some help?" the brunette repeated.

"Fine," the blonde scowled. She led him from the Great Hall and up several flights of stairs. On the seventh floor, they finally found the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Password?" the woman asked.

"Valor," Draco sniffed. The portrait swung open and the two entered the Gryffindor common room. Draco immediately noticed how warm and comfortable the room seemed especially when compared to the Slytherin common room. They walked to the posting board where the Gryffindor schedule was. "Advanced Potions first period. It doesn't say anything about Slytherins."

"We have the exact same classes, remember?" Hermione said.

The bell rang signaling the start of the first period. They were late on their first day of school -- well, their first **full** day of school -- in the past. The two raced through the halls of Hogwarts to the dungeons. The class was already assembled and Professor Flaherty, the balding, gray-haired professor in olive-green robes with hard blue eyes, looked over his wire-rimmed glasses at the two. "Miss de Lioncourt, Mr. Aquilus...they may tolerate tardiness at Agnitio," he sniffed the name as if it was a vile curse word, "but not here at Hogwarts. Twenty points from Gryffindor, twenty from Slytherin."

_Right bastard, that one,_ Draco thought. _Even Snape wouldn't take points from Slytherin!_ He made a disgusted face as he remembered the sappy, puppy-dog look that Snape had given his mother over breakfast. _Oh, bloody hell...Snape and my mother...that's just...disgusting._

Hermione's eyes widened as she sunk onto the bench behind the last empty table, Draco slipping beside her. The double Advanced Potions was the longest Potions class Hermione had ever had. Professor Flaherty, the Muggle-born learned, on a good day was worse than Snape had been **toward Neville** after Neville's boggart **combined** with Professor Umbridge. If that didn't stir anyone into a right bit of panic, nothing would.

Hermione longed to talk to Draco but after the last disaster in Potions, the two silently checked, double-checked and triple-checked everything to make sure it was right. "So what's the story with you and Snape?" Draco asked.

"There's no story, we were talking about potions," Hermione stated. "Maybe he can help us get back."

Draco smirked. "You looked...awfully close," he said.

"Snape and me? Did you forget the past five years?" she asked. "He made my life miserable even though I was the best--"

"Second best," Draco stated.

"Second best?" Hermione demanded.

"You were the second best student in Potions," he answered. "Remember, I was first?" Hermione opened her mouth to counter his accusation when the beady-eyed professor's thunderous voice boomed out.

"Aquilus, de Lioncourt! Enough with the lover's quarrel, another fifty points from Slytherin and Gryffindor...apiece," Flaherty said.

Hermione eyes widened and she caught her fellow Slytherins (including Narcissa) -- _Fellow Slytherins?_ Hermione wondered -- glare at her. She clenched her hands, blunt nails digging into her palms, to keep from throttling the short man with his bulbous nose. Draco was also fighting his baser homicidal urges toward the professor. Draco only managed to keep himself calm by a slow mantra of breathe in, breathe out.

By the time the class was over, Draco's need to kill the professor had dulled to an almost-bearable niggle in the back of his mind. _Forget killing Voldemort, let's kill this shit,_ Draco thought as he and Hermione turned in their potion. The professor scowled at them and Hermione shivered. As soon as they were out of Flaherty's hearing range, Hurricane Hermione went off. "I CAN'T BELIVE THAT MAN!" she cried. "He thought you and I were having a lover's quarrel! Honestly, you're a pure-blooded Slytherin snob and I'm just little old Muggle-born Gryffindor me!"

Draco's eyes danced with amusement as he watched her cheeks flush with anger. She was almost...attractive. "I lost seventy points! **Seventy** points! On my first day, it's a good thing that I'm staying with Lily or the Slytherins would murder me in my sleep!" Hermione raged. "Ooh, I can't wait until I get home and the first thing I'm going to do is give Snape a hug and tell him what a wonderful job he's doing."

"I'm sure you will," Draco stated.

"You're sure I will what?" Hermione asked, confusion marring her brow.

"I'm sure you'll give him a great big hug and a wet, sloppy kiss," Draco smirked.

"You bastard!" Hermione gasped, her hand shooting out and smacking his cheek with a resounding **smack**. His head was pushed to the side from the force, a scarlet handprint flaming on his cheek; his usually impassive gray eyes stormed with anger.

He grabbed her wrists and shoved her roughly against the nearest stone wall. His grip was bruising on her delicately-boned wrists and he pushed his body against hers. "You got your free shot in third year, Mudblood, you never get another one," he growled.

Hermione's eyes widened in terror, her heart pounding violently. His lips were curled up in an evil sneer and were mere millimeters from her own lips. "Let me go," Hermione whimpered.

There was the echo of footsteps. Students were going through the dungeons to Professor Flaherty's classroom and Draco realized how this would look. So he did the only thing he could think of, he placed his lips to Hermione's. She gasped and Draco took this moment to push his tongue past her lips.

Her blood turned to lava and her nerves danced with electricity. The kiss was brief but it left both parties breathless and applause filled the hallway. Hermione's cheeks flamed as she noticed the collection of Slytherin and Gryffindor first years applauding and cat-calling. She was going to **kill** Draco Malfoy.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, trying to look anywhere but at the man who had just kissed her so thoroughly. Her cheeks blazed as she noted a familiar red-haired Gryffindor chuckling. _Bill Weasley,_ Hermione realized. _Oh God, I hope that he doesn't tell Ron!_ She finally realized that Draco had let her go. She pulled away from him, making her way through the first years and racing to the Transfiguration classroom. Draco watched her go, a look of shock plastered to his face before he too went to the Transfiguration classroom.


	10. Tradition

Part 10:  
Tradition  
(Saturday, September 3, 1977 - Continued...)

By the time the class period was through, every single person at Hogwarts knew about the infamous between-class kiss that Draco had given her. Hermione had been mortified; her lips were **still** swollen and slightly bruised. She had gone to Madam Pomfrey (whom Hermione was glad to see still there) for something to make the well-kissed appearance go away but Madam Pomfrey simply tut-tutted, saying that she wasn't supposed to heal non-magic-inflicted wounds. The Slytherins looked like they would kill her for daring to touch a Gryffindor. Everyone except Narcissa Black, Narcissa looked...to put it simply...jealous?

Even though Hermione had earned back most of the points that Flaherty had taken away earlier and earning the respect of Professor McGonagall. That was a masterful feat for a Slytherin. As she entered the Great Hall for lunch, the Slytherins cast glares at her for daring to appear.

_Merlin, is it so horrible that I kissed a Gryffindor?_ Hermione thought. She frowned as she realized what she had just thought. _Honestly! The Gryffindors are the ones that should be upset because a Gryffindor kissed a Slytherin. No, no! I wasn't the one who did the kissing. Draco **kissed** me...and for that, I am going to turn him into something really...dreadful._

Severus didn't care who she had kissed (well, who had kissed **her**); he sat beside her at lunch. "I can't believe how--how **mean** Professor Flaherty is," she whined, trying to think of anything to say except mentioning Draco.

"That's what everyone thinks. Some say he's the Dark Wizard Grindelwald come back," Severus stated.

She frowned. "He can't be as bad as other wizards I've heard of," Hermione stated, shivering as she cast another look at the Marauders and Lily. Draco was involved in deep conversation with James; the handprint (unfortunately) had faded. Hermione wondered what he was up to; she didn't trust Draco as far as she could throw him to use a cliché. Especially after that kiss.

Severus swallowed hard and looked at Hermione. "Er...Hermione," Severus stated. "There's a dance on Halloween for the seventh years and I was wondering if you'd like to be my date?"

"In the friend way?" Hermione asked, eyes widening.

Severus snorted. "Of course in the friend way," he stated. "You're the sweetest girl, but..." his eyes were directed to Narcissa and Hermione suppressed another giggle.

"Why don't you ask Narcissa?" Hermione couldn't stop the words from tumbling from her mouth. Her eyes widened. Severus's face hardened. _Note to self, keep **far** away from any mention of Narcissa Mal--Black,_ she mused. "I mean, money and power aren't everything, Severus. She might have hidden depths." _Very, very, **very** hidden depths if she's shallow enough to marry Lucius,_ she mused and again visions of Lucius Malfoy's alabaster chest floated past her mind's eye. _This whole trip is really messing up my hormones. I've gone through five entire years of relatively **no** influx of hormones whatsoever and now I'm drooling over Lucius Malfoy's chest. There is something terribly wrong with me._

Severus didn't seem to notice Hermione's sudden blush. "Even if my father hadn't ruined the Snape name...it's not like I have a chance...she's already betrothed," he said miserably.

"Betrothed? You mean, engaged?" Hermione asked.

"What else would I mean?" Severus asked.

"She's engaged? She's what, sixteen?" Hermione asked, eying the blonde that had ensnared Severus's senses.

"She's been engaged to one of the school governors, Lucius Malfoy, since her birth," Severus said.

"Since her birth?" Hermione frowned. "That's not right."

Severus's eyebrow rose. "It's a tradition to high-ranking pureblood families," he stated.

"And Lucius's and Narcissa's son?" she asked.

"Or daughter," Severus said with an arch of his dark brow. "I've heard that Lucius is already talking of a betrothal between his child and a Parkinson."

"Pansy," Hermione whispered, her eyes widening as she stared at Draco. Suddenly, she felt sorry for Draco (an emotion that she wasn't soon to ever have again): he didn't have a choice; he was already forced to marry that hag, Pansy Parkinson. Pansy wasn't ugly even with her stupid pug-nose; she was a pretty blonde thing with curves that Hermione had even caught Ron and Harry ogling on occasion...but her personality. Hermione shuddered; she had the personality of a troll and a simpering voice (not unlike Umbridge's) that would grate on a banshee's nerves.

"Excuse me?" Severus asked.

"Nothing," Hermione stammered but Severus gave her an odd look and the girl blushed under his scrutiny. "Okay, fine, it reminds me of someone I know. He's a pureblood and he's betrothed to this horrible, horrible girl named Pansy."

Severus seemed to want to ask her some questions but shook his head as his lips thinned. "Fair enough," he finally stated. There was a tense silence and Hermione watched Lily talk to a guy with dark hair that was about Hermione's age. He seemed vaguely familiar to her.

"Who's that?" she asked, nodding toward the black-haired boy.

"Regulus Black," he stated. "Much less annoying than his brother, Sirius." Severus scowled at the mention of Sirius.

Hermione's eyes widened. "He's a Gryffindor," she stated. Severus gave her a look that clearly said "and your point is?" Hermione frowned and decided not to go into depth why she had made the comment about Regulus Black being a Gryffindor. He would be a Death Eater and he was a Gryffindor. She had thought only Slytherins became Death Eaters. Her eyes traveled to Peter who gnawed his fingernails as he concentrated on the book lying before him, obviously doing some very last minute studying on something...Peter would become a Death Eater too. Suddenly, Hermione wasn't hungry anymore.


	11. The Second Mission

Part 11:  
The Second Mission  
(Saturday, September 3, 1977 - Continued...)

"I heard you and Hermione got in a little between-class smooch," Sirius murmured teasingly to Draco.

Draco nodded. "Yes," he stated, playing the sappy love-smitten teen perfectly. _I am going to have someone Obliviate every memory about Granger when this is over. I can't believe I kissed her,_ he thought. He licked his lips; he could still taste her. She had kissed him so innocently, so passionately. None of his previous lovers had **ever** kissed like that. _Although, she did taste good...sweet, innocent. Bloody hell, what am I thinking? This is Granger! Know-it-all, beaver-toothed Mudblood Granger!_

"Congratulations, already the talk of the school on your first full day," James stated. "Although, we Hogwarts students usually take our...er...shall I say...extra-curricular sessions to the Astronomy Tower."

Draco smiled. "What can I say, Mione's irresistible," Draco said. _I can't **believe** I just said that,_ he mused.

"We've thought over your second mission," James said. "Got bored in N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration."

"Okay, what's my second mission?" Draco asked nonchalantly; glad to no longer be discussing Hermione.

"You have to make the Gryffindor Quidditch team," James said.

"That's it?" Draco asked. "What positions are available?"

"Just the Keeper," James said. "And practically every single Gryffindor from second year up is going to be trying out."

"Well, mate, you're on," Draco stated. "You might as well just add me to the roster."

Remus frowned nervously and he and Sirius exchanged a look. Draco and James became involved in their own conversation about Quidditch. "I don't like this, Sirius," the brunette hissed to his black-haired friend. "They're practically **giving** him acceptance."

"Don't worry, mate, there's no way in hell he'll ever pass my test," Sirius stated as he started to think over the things he could do to Draco in his test as he watched Snape and Hermione talking. A smirk crossed his lips as he realized something. "He'll have to break into the Slytherin House and steal last year's House Cup."

A slow smile curved the werewolf's lips. "With all the hexes and charms Faust has put on it, there's no bloody way," he stated.

After lunch let out, Sirius walked over to Hermione. "Hello, Hermione, Sn...ape," he said amicably.

Snape glared at Sirius. "What do you want, Black?" he scowled.

"Just wanted to talk to Hermione here," Sirius stated. "So are you going to Quidditch tryouts tonight?"

"Why would I go to the Quidditch tryouts?" she asked.

"Your boyfriend's trying out for Keeper," Sirius said.

"He's not..." she trailed off, contemplating the avenues open. If she said that Draco wasn't her boyfriend, Sirius might hit on her; if she said that Draco was her boyfriend, she'd have to put up with Draco. She winced at both prospects, her lips stinging momentarily in reminder of Draco Malfoy kissing her. "Er...I'll see what I can do if I don't have too much homework."

She and Snape walked off, separating for their different classes. Sirius arched a brow in curiosity. She'd taken an awfully long time to answer his question. He was really beginning to wonder if Draco had been lying the night before. He didn't know **why** the boy would lie about who he dated though.

* * *

After much deliberation, Hermione decided to put in a short appearance at the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. She'd do her homework there and then retreat to the Head common room. It was simple. She sat in the Gryffindor bleachers and piled her books in front of her and half-listened as Professor McGonagall began to list the team's players.

"Welcome to the 1977-1978 Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts," Professor McGonagall's voice came, magically amplified by _Sonorous_. "Our current team is Seventh Year Captain James Potter, Seeker--" a gaggle of girls sitting in the very first bleacher of the Gryffindor stands began to giggle and sigh, moving closer to the edge to get a better look at James who flew around the pitch.

"Oh, wow, Lily's so lucky! She gets to share a bathroom with James!" a girl gushed. Hermione was reminded of Lavender Brown.

"And that new Gryffindor boy! He is so **dreamy**!" another girl that reminded her of Padma and Parvati Patil gushed.

"Draco Aquilus," another girl sighed and Hermione made a face. "I can't believe he's dating a Slytherin!"

"What a waste! Ugh, a Slytherin stealing **our** Gryffindor boys! Don't you agree, Violet?" yet another of the five girls frowned.

"And she's so...blah! She's not even pretty, all that frizzy hair and she's such a know-it-all!" Violet scowled.

Hermione glared at the girls, ignored them, and concentrated on McGonagall. "Sirius Black, Beater." The girls sighed again as Sirius Black flew onto the Pitch. He winked at the girls and one fainted. His eyes fell upon Hermione and he grinned widely at her.

The girls looked behind them to see Hermione. They sent her a cold glare before turning back to look at the Pitch. "Sixth year Owen Abercrombie, Beater," McGonagall said. The girls cheered for him.

"Seventh year David Stebbins, Chaser." Stebbins got a big grin from a girl dressed in Hufflepuff colors. "Fifth year Regulus Black, Chaser." The girls oohed and aahed over Sirius's younger brother flew by. "Seventh year Remus Lupin, Chaser."

Hermione's brows knit as she examined the werewolf. _How can he be a Quidditch player with his lycanthropy?_ she wondered. _Guess they don't have games on full moons._

Hermione lost herself in her studies as the game began. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of each Keeper as he struggled vainly against the onslaught of the Quaffle tossed by Regulus, Stebbins, and Remus and each failed horribly. Hermione set her books aside and got absorbed into the game as she watched the three fly around the field. They were very daring, she observed. They did complicated maneuvers that Hermione had never seen before.

She dug her journal from her satchel and began to write down the plays for Harry as he was now the new Gryffindor captain. She charmed the x's and o's to fly around the page in the complicated formations that the three Chasers created. The last Keeper trying out was none other than Draco Malfoy. Hermione leaned forward with the giggling girls as the white-blonde took his place.

Remus gave him a glare that Hermione barely discerned. He nodded toward Regulus and Stebbins, and they nodded back. The three began to lob the Quaffle at Draco much more brutally than they had at the previous Keepers. Draco's silver eyes hardened as they got the first Quaffle past him. _I'm not a Weasley,_ he thought angrily as he missed the second Quaffle.

The three reformed in a v-shape that Hermione recognized from _Quidditch Through the Ages_ as the Hawkshead Attacking Formation. She silently thanked her friendship with Viktor Krum that had ended up with her getting the book for Christmas last year. They tossed the Quaffle to each other and Draco floated in front of all three goals, his eyes never leaving the red ball.

Deftly, Remus tossed the Quaffle to Regulus and he charged Draco. Hermione winced, she was certain that the Quaffle would go through the goal as the others had. Draco swung the broom around, the bristles hitting the ball and sailing across the pitch and through one of the goals. The girls in front of Hermione cheered wildly, and even Hermione was impressed although she hid it.

Stebbins, Remus, and Regulus seemed shocked at the way Draco had defended the goal and scored. The rest of the team watched with interest, James smirking slightly at Sirius.

Hermione frowned as Remus's face hardened even more. The three Chasers rescued the Quaffle and looked even more determined to best the blonde. Draco had composed himself back to his usual aloof and indifferent demeanor although his stormy eyes were hard with anger.

Draco tossed his head back, getting a strand of his pale hair off his sweaty brow. One of the girls in front of Hermione mock-fainted and sent the rest of the girls into a chorus of giggles and sighs. The brunette Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin was sorely tempted to cast _Silencio_ on them. Instead, she settled for a cold glare at the back of their heads.

Remus looked almost feral in the silvery light of the waning gibbous moon. She'd never seen him like this -- correction, she'd seen him like this **once** -- and it had been when he had turned into a werewolf the night that she and Harry had rescued Sirius and Buckbeak. Hermione had noticed the brutal way the sandy-haired boy was leading the two other Chasers against Draco. She wondered if his obvious aggression had anything to do with the moon's phase.

Before -- or rather, later -- she'd only seen him tired near the full moon. Hermione wondered if his tiredness was because he was older and wasn't energetic enough anymore to get as angry. She made a mental note to do some more research on lycanthropy later.

Draco caught the Quaffle that had narrowly missed knocking his head off. Hermione winced at the near-miss. She didn't know why Remus and the two others were being much harder on Draco than they had on the previous people trying out for Keeper. Her amber eyes widened...unless they had found out their secret. _Oh Merlin, I hope not!_ Hermione thought.

Hermione sincerely hoped not. She had had a hard enough time explaining her -- well, **their** -- predicament to Professor Dumbledore. She didn't think she'd be able to get through the Marauders' questions without spilling everything that would happen in the next nineteen years and sobbing uncontrollably. She couldn't risk it...she didn't know exactly what had led up to that fateful Halloween that had ended up in the death of Lily and James Potter and Harry's now-infamous scar.

As the brunette pondered over thoughts of the Marauders' interrogation, Draco made another dramatic catch much to the delight of the girls in the front row. _If I **ever** become like them -- I hope someone will kill me,_ she thought with a disgusted shudder.

* * *

James Potter and Sirius Black sat on the sidelines watching the Gryffindor Chasers face-off with Draco. "Well, Padfoot?" James smirked to his friend.

Sirius sighed grudgingly. "I can't believe he's good enough to beat them," he groaned. "Why are you so keen on Aquilus joining us?"

"He's a good player," James said with a shrug.

"Prongs..." Sirius scowled with an edge to his voice.

James's eyes left Sirius to stare at the blonde valiantly defending the three goals from Remus, Regulus and Stebbins. "I don't know...there's just something about him...something familiar...I can't really explain it. He's sneaky...he'd make a good Marauder."

Sirius sniffed. "He'd also make a good Slytherin," he stated.

"I can't see him as a Slytherin," James stated. "I can't believe he's even **dating** a Slytherin."

Sirius's eyes left James to seek out said Slytherin in the stands. He smiled faintly as he saw the brunette, engrossed in the game and gnawing her bottom lip. "She's not like other Slytherins, Prongs. She's different," Sirius said. "I can see her as a Ravenclaw...but not a Slytherin. Moony told me that she's Muggle-born."

James's eyebrows shot up. "She's a Muggle-born Slytherin. Old Sal must be spinning in his grave," he smirked.

"Or Satan's ice skating," Sirius added.

* * *

The next time the Quaffle came at Draco, it hit him hard in the stomach, momentarily taking his breath away. He glared at Regulus who had sent the Quaffle his way before tossing it back just as hard. He hit Regulus where it counted, right between the legs and sent a cold smirk toward the younger boy.

Stebbins smirked at this. "Serves you right, Reggie," he snarked. Regulus obvious didn't like being called "Reggie" and sent the Quaffle none-too-gently at Stebbins, who barely caught it. Stebbins scowled at Regulus, tossing the Quaffle to Remus. Remus rolled his eyes at his fellow Chasers.

Remus sent the Quaffle at Draco, this time Draco was unprepared and the Quaffle hit him in the temple. This caused Draco to lose his balance and he toppled off the broom.

The girls -- Hermione was ashamed to admit that she was one of them -- screamed. Remus's eyes widened in shock and horror as the blonde plummeted toward the Quidditch pitch. Remus, Regulus, and Stebbins flew down to the injured blonde as did the rest of the Gryffindor team.

Hermione raced down the stands and shoved her way through the players to Draco's side. He sat up slowly, breathing hard. He had a nasty bruise on the side of his face where the Quaffle had hit and Hermione wouldn't be surprised if he had broken his arm and a few ribs. She withdrew her wand and pressed it to the bruise. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Draco demanded.

"I'm going to heal that bruise," Hermione stated.

"And what if you screw it up like Lockhart," Draco scowled. "I'd probably end up with you zapping out my brain."

Hermione smirked. "Would that actually be much of a change?" she asked innocently.

"I'll have you know that I'm second in my class," Draco stated.

"Second only because I'm smarter than you. Now shut up, Draco," she said.

"You said my name," Draco said with amusement in his gray eyes.

"It's not going to happen again, I promise," she said. She spoke the healing incantation and the bruise faded to green and yellow then altogether disappeared. "I took a beginners' Healing course over the summer."

"Leave it to you to take courses over the summer," Draco stated.

She was about to do the incantation on his arm as well before Madam Pomfrey pushed through the students and examined Draco. The older woman used her magic to place the blonde on the gurney that had floated behind her.


	12. How to Deal

Part 12:  
How to Deal  
(Tuesday, September 2, 1996)

Severus Snape paced his office as he waited for Weasley and Potter to return with the Headmaster. With a deep sigh, he slumped into the leather-upholstered chair behind his desk. He took a deep breath and focused on the memories that he'd just glimpsed, pulling them through the past nineteen years. He mulled them about in his mind, working them over as he waited for Hogwarts's illustrious headmaster.  
  
Slowly, Snape's obsidian eyes became focused on the pink mess in the back of the room. A simple _Scourgify_ would take care of it but the potion needed to be tested to see what had gone wrong and what had happened to the two prefects.  
  
Snape chuckled hollowly as he glared at the spilled potion, his long, pallid fingers tapping the battered wood of his desk in his annoyance. He didn't **need** the potion tested; he **knew** exactly what had become of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.  
  
Snape had **seen** them in Professor Agnosco's Arithmancy classroom. He had seen Granger talking to the blasted Marauders. Then she and Draco had left, "Miss de Lioncourt" had suddenly felt ill. Black had raised his hand to probably get out of class, staring hungrily after the brunette girl. It was the kind of look that Potter reserved for Evans. Snape smirked, imagine that...Sirius Black in lust with his godson's young friend, Hermione Granger.  
  
His mind left the thoughts of Black's embarrassment when Snape realized that Sirius Black was dead. He focused on the potion again, examining it. **How** they had gotten to 1977 was an entirely different question and was still a mystery to the Potions professor, however. The potion had been relatively easy for talented students like Draco and Granger; simply a memory-sharing potion.  
  
The person who brewed it would create a link to their memories and anyone who drank it would see a glimpse of the other's memories. It was a useful in times like this. When the Houses were at war but an even bigger war was brewing in the outside world, one that was much more important than whoever got the most House Points, won the most Quidditch games, got the House Cup or the Quidditch Cup. The least that could be done was to have the Hogwarts students work together. The best way to breed a friendship was to share experiences.  
  
That's why he had paired the students with members of opposing Houses. Goyle and Potter, Weasley and Crabbe could share memories, although Snape doubted that Vincent Crabbe or Gregory Goyle would ever produce a usable potion. With a frown, Snape wondered **how** Crabbe and Goyle had even **gotten** into Advanced Potions. They must have cheated somehow.  
  
A smirk passed over the potions master's lips as he thought of a way to ensure that no one would ever cheat on his tests again. Granger had been ingenious with that little hex she'd put on the Dumbledore's Army roster. It would work quite well with his tests and he wondered why he'd never thought of it before. He sighed grumpily as he realized that a fifteen-year-old girl had come up with the idea before he had.  
  
The man scowled darkly as his mind left the stupidity of Draco's lackeys and returned to mull over the brown-haired girl and blonde boy from N.E.W.T. Arithmancy. The memories surfaced through the past nineteen years but they felt brand new to him. He could still remember the same day but without Granger and Draco. He had to talk to the headmaster. He wanted to know exactly **how** everything had happened and **why** they had ended up in 1977 of all years.

* * *

Harry and Ron walked silently through the halls of Hogwarts toward the Headmaster's office. "Did you see Hermione after the cauldron exploded?" Ron asked, breaking the silence.  
  
"No...but she could be in Advanced Arithmancy," Harry said. "She could have left the room before we saw? I would...I mean, she had to partner with Malfoy..." he frowned and then shuddered. "And I had to work with Goyle..." he trailed off. He was still unsatisfied with his idea that Hermione was in Advanced Arithmancy. It didn't seem right...something was off.  
  
Ron frowned thoughtfully. "With all those books, there's no way that Hermione could leave the dungeons so quickly. There's no way she could have gotten to Arithmancy without us seeing her somehow. She'd have had to go this way. The Arithmancy Tower isn't far from Professor Dumbledore's office. Unless there's a shortcut that we didn't think of."  
  
"It would've been listed on the Marauder's Map. I haven't seen any listing of a secret passageway from the dungeons to anywhere near the Arithmancy Tower," Harry sighed.  
  
"Well...maybe the Marauders didn't find all of the passageways?" Ron suggested.  
  
Harry's eyes widened in sudden enlightenment. "The Marauder's Map!" he said.  
  
"Er...what?" Ron asked.  
  
"When we're done visiting Professor Dumbledore's office, we can look at the Marauder's Map and see if Hermione's on it," Harry replied.  
  
Ron let out a relieved breath and they finally reached Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle sprang aside, the spiral staircase going down with the wizened headmaster on it. "Ah, yes, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. On Professor Snape's order, I presume?" the man asked genially.  
  
Ron nodded slowly. "Yes, sir, something happened in Potions and he wanted us to get you," Harry said.  
  
Dumbledore nodded, momentarily lost in thought. "Yes, yes, you'd best get to your common room, boys. I'm quite certain that you have quite a bit of homework to work on.  
  
The two boys walked to Gryffindor Tower. "Password?" the Fat Lady inquired.  
  
"_Veritas_," Harry said automatically. The portrait swung open, revealing the opening to the Gryffindor common room. Most of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years were gathered there, studying. Curriculum had gotten harder for everyone this year.  
  
The two boys went to their dorm to find it mercifully empty. Harry opened his trunk and rescued the Marauder's Map. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said as he tapped his wand to the blank piece of parchment. Ink sprawled over the page forming an intricate map of Hogwarts complete with named dots. Harry saw Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley in the sixth year boys' dorm.  
  
Harry tapped his wand on the far side of the map where the Arithmancy Tower was located. The map zoomed in on the tower and the two Gryffindors could make out several names but there were two conspicuously absent names: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. The boys knew that Malfoy took Arithmancy because Hermione was always talking about what an insufferable git he was. He was the second in the class, very close to Hermione and it annoyed her greatly.  
  
The zooming in was a trick that Lupin had taught him about the Marauder's Map over the summer. They'd spent a lot of time together talking about Sirius and the Marauders' time at Hogwarts. Harry had grown close to the werewolf as they bonded over memories of good ol' Snuffles. "Hermione isn't there," Ron stated the obvious.  
  
"Locate Hermione Granger," Harry ordered the map, another trick that Lupin had taught him. The map went blank. "It's not working."  
  
"Or she's not at Hogwarts," Ron said. "But...where **is** she? You can't Apparate on school grounds. There are too many charms." Believe it or not, Ronald Weasley had learned from Hermione's constant preaching of facts from _Hogwarts, A History_ throughout the past five years. Although, he'd never admit it to his friend.  
  
Harry glared at the map in accusation. "Then where is she?" he demanded.

* * *

Dumbledore made his way through the halls of Hogwarts. Most of the classes were over by now with the exception of Professor Belinda Vector's Arithmancy and Professor O'Brien's Muggle Studies classes. Luckily enough for Dumbledore, Lupin's classes were done for the day and Dumbledore needed to talk to him and Snape.  
  
After the Ministry admitted that Lord Voldemort was indeed back, there was an outcry from concerned parents for a skilled Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. They didn't care **who** the teacher was just as long as the teacher knew Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
The best choice had clearly been Remus Lupin, the only Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that had taught the students anything of use. The parents no longer cared if Remus was a werewolf as long as he taught their children. With much cajoling from Dumbledore, Lupin had accepted the position.  
  
The wizened wizard glanced at the prematurely grayed man. Lupin's blue eyes were wide as he stared at a corner of the room. "Remus?" the headmaster's voice drew him from his reverie.  
  
"Headmaster," Lupin said with a quick nod.  
  
"I suppose you're having trouble with the new memories you've received?" the man asked.  
  
Lupin's eyes widened and he didn't bother asking how the man knew. Dumbledore seemed to know everything. "I suggest you come with me to see Severus," Dumbledore said.  
  
Lupin swallowed hard. There were many, many different things he'd rather endure than have to spend more time than was absolutely required with the man he had formerly mistreated in his youth. Lupin nodded slowly and followed the headmaster to the dungeons.  
  
When they arrived in Snape's dungeon classroom, Snape was staring absently at a puddle of pink that added a cheerful color to the dank gray of the dungeon. "Severus?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
Snape looked up to see the headmaster and the werewolf. "Albus, Remus," he said with a curt nod and Lupin nodded in return.  
  
"I suppose Potter and Weasley told you about the little incident in class today?" Snape asked.  
  
"Yes, they did," Dumbledore said. "And the strangest thing is that I happen to remember a teenaged girl in her sixth year named Hermione Granger that came to my office with a story of coming from the future...nineteen years ago."  
  
Lupin nodded. "I remember her, N.E.W.T.-level Arithmancy, we met her," Lupin said.  
  
"Did she manage to tell you how it had happened?" Snape inquired.  
  
"A doubled amount of wolfbane and hellebore," Dumbledore said.  
  
Snape's eyes widened. "Hellebore and wolfbane? Twice as much? How could they have been so stupid? I instructed them carefully about hellebore, wolfbane, and thistledown," Snape stated. "It makes the potion unstable, there's no telling **how** they managed to end up in 1977...or how they'll ever get back."  
  
Lupin's eyes widened at Snape's comment. "They can't stay in the past, Severus!" Lupin cried. "Do you have any idea how much will change? Sirius was practically **drooling** over the girl. You actually think that she won't try to save Lily and James?"  
  
"I had a discussion with Miss Granger when she was given the Time-Turner in third year, Remus; I don't think it's necessary to worry," Dumbledore said.  
  
"The Time-Turner only goes back a few hours, this is **nineteen years**, Albus," Lupin said.  
  
"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you," the Headmaster stated.  
  
"I'll worry about it all right," Lupin murmured. Dumbledore didn't hear Lupin's last comment and the two professors watched the headmaster walk off.  
  
After his conversation with Lupin and Dumbledore, Snape retreated to his apartment. Snape's quarters weren't as dark and dank as someone would expect from a sallow-faced man who taught his classes in a dungeon. It was almost homey, recurring colors were shades of green (as expected from a former-Slytherin) and rich, warm wood paneling.  
  
With sufficient dread, the man changed into his nightclothes and fell asleep, wondering what memories the next morning would bring.


	13. Severus Snape's AHNGVB Day

Part 13:  
Severus Snape's Awful, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day  
(Wednesday, September 3, 1996)

Severus Snape bolted into a sitting position as he awakened. As his onyx eyes opened, his mind was flooded with memories. It seemed that during his sleep an entire day had passed in his memories. He had been certain that Granger and Draco had disappeared about ten minutes until the bell and it was impossible for him to have so many new memories in about eight hours' time. But they were there, mocking him.

**Hermione Granger** was a **Slytherin**. **Draco Malfoy** was a **Gryffindor**. Severus Snape had befriended the new Slytherin over Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had told her about his family and...egads, his infatuation with Draco's future mother. He had invited **Hermione Granger** to the Halloween Masque, for Salazar's sake!

Snape was seized by panic; he had invited a student to the Halloween Masque. He closed his eyes and pounded the back of his head on his pillow. In twenty-four hours, Hermione Granger had done the impossible and made him open up to her. She had befriended him, he'd just met the girl but he trusted her for some insane reason. All of his life, Snape had never trusted anyone, especially not his family. Then some bushy-haired know-it-all came along and his carefully-constructed walls had crumbled. It was just...he didn't know how to explain it.

He wanted to go back to sleep and pretend that his new memories were just a cruel prank by Gryffindor's Golden Trio. He worked over the memories much like he had the night before, realizing with a soft chuckle that Draco Malfoy had kissed Hermione Granger. He wasn't sure **why** but a load of Slytherin first years had been talking about seeing the girl in the arms of her Gryffindor suitor. This entire situation was insane on a level that Snape had never thought existed.

Snape had the sudden need to drown himself in a Hagrid-sized vat of firewhisky. Literally or figuratively, it didn't matter to him. He shuddered, hoping that a fix could be found for this mess or he'd soon have memories of **dancing** with Hermione and Merlin knows what else would happen in the next two months. _Bloody hell, this is a total nightmare. In the next two months in 1977? Am I the only one getting a headache from all this?_ he wondered.

He looked at the clock in the corner of his room and realized that he couldn't procrastinate much longer; he'd slept later than usual. No one would ever think that Severus Snape was a morning person that usually woke up around five in the morning and was usually among one of the first staff members in the Great Hall. It was after eight in the morning and there was about a half hour left until breakfast was over. Just over an hour until Snape would have his first class of the day: first year Hufflepuffs.

His usual sadistic glee in taking points from Hufflepuffs (whom he despised almost as much as the Gryffindors) was dampened greatly by the traumatic memories he'd received in the night. All need for vindication was gone now and he realized that he'd need to muster every bit of mental strength to pass through the rest of the day, battling new old memories.

He stumbled out of bed and threw on his usual black, billowy robe and left his quarters, his mind trying to block out the memories that were sure to assail him soon enough. He entered the Great Hall and there was a sudden silence from the students, followed by excited whispers.

Snape cast a glare at the Gryffindor table. A first year yelped with terror and promptly ducked under the table to the amusement of his fellows. Snape took the only empty seat at the Head Table, beside Lupin. Lupin looked worse for the wear as well, he had barely touched his food and he looked exhausted.

Snape knew that Lupin's appearance had nothing to do with his lycanthropy. The last full moon had been almost a week beforehand. Snape knew why Lupin seemed tired because Snape had experienced the same tiring memories. "Have a good night's sleep?" the Potions professor asked in a cajoling voice.

"What do you think, **Severus**?" Severus was spoken like a vile curse word. "I had the worst nightmare-slash-memory, I had befriended a snarky blonde Slytherin. You know, the same one who did his damnedest to get me fired during his third year," Lupin stated with a glare at Snape.

Snape chuckled and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. Lupin smiled indulgently, making sure the Slytherin Head of House had a good amount of the orange liquid in his mouth before Lupin continued. "Although, I don't suppose it's any worse than a Slytherin inviting a Gryffindor Muggle-born to the Halloween Masque," Lupin replied.

Snape blanched and choked on the hearty sip of juice he'd taken. "H--how did you know?" Snape sputtered.

"You were sitting near Carpathia White, everyone in the entire school knew," Lupin stated.

Snape groaned. "Even Draco?" he asked.

"No...Draco didn't find out, I don't think. He had other things to think about than the Halloween Masque," Lupin said, his blue eyes shining with mischief.

Snape snorted. "I heard. He gave the first years quite a show, didn't he?" Snape laughed at the absurdity of it all.

* * *

At the Gryffindor table, Harry Potter and the two Weasleys were oddly silent. Ron and Harry picked at their food and Ginny stared at the Head Table. The Gryffindor table had been full of "answers" to what had happened to Hermione and Malfoy the day before. Lavender and Parvati were talking about what they knew as the truth. That the Gryffindor and Slytherin had accidentally created a love potion and left for some alone-time. 

Compared with the other tales sweeping the Great Hall, theirs seemed to be the most believable...which was really something. Ginny's eyes widened as she stared at Lupin and Snape. "Wow," she murmured.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Look at Professor Lupin and Snape," she said. Harry's jaw dropped, his father's former friend had just made Snape laugh. Things were getting very odd around here.

"This is..." Ron couldn't find the words to explain what it was like to see a former-Gryffindor and a former-Slytherin enjoying themselves over civil conversation.


	14. Poor Ickle Ferret

Part 14:  
Poor Ickle Ferret  
(Saturday, September 3, 1977 - Continued...)

Fortunately or unfortunately -- depending on how you looked at it -- Draco wasn't seriously injured: he had a minor concussion, a broken arm and a couple of broken ribs. He had to stay in the infirmary until he healed but he'd be back to his not-so-charming self in a couple of days' time. Probably sooner considering the fact that he was a very demanding patient and was driving poor Madam Pomfrey crazy.

With horror, Madam Pomfrey had watched Sirius Black, James Potter, and Remus Lupin enter the infirmary, covered in mud and grass stains from the Quidditch tryouts. They spent as much time in detention and in the infirmary as they did in their classes. She stared from Draco to the three and winced. She was going to be mending a lot of things in the next year, she just knew it.

She started out of the infirmary to talk to Professor Flaherty about brewing some Draught of Living Death in the hopes that it would save her fraying nerves by putting Mr. Aquilus to sleep. Or possibly her. "Oh, hello, Peter," she said as Peter Pettigrew rounded the corner toward the infirmary from Professor Flaherty's room where he'd been serving detention.

"Are my friends in the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey?" Peter asked. He wasn't sure **why** he had asked, he already knew the answer and the woman affirmed his thought with a nod. Peter sighed and realized that he was actually quite relieved that he hadn't made the Quidditch team when he'd tried out in his second year. Especially since he was quite accident-prone without the added help of broomsticks, Bludgers, Quaffles, and Beaters.

The woman smiled at him and Peter continued on. He arrived just in time to hear his friends talking to Draco about the results of the tryouts. "You did good, mate," James stated. "Welcome to the Gryffindor Quidditch team." He shook Draco's hand enthusiastically.

"I didn't mean..." Remus started. Draco arched a brow at Remus. "Okay, I **did** mean to do it..."

Draco nodded slowly. "I know you did," he stated. "No hard feelings."

Remus smirked and Peter made his presence known. "You passed your second test," Peter said, grinning widely. Although, it was more of a question than a statement.

"When you're out of the infirmary, we were planning to sneak in some firewhisky and have a party on the pitch. And then you'll get your third task," James stated. He took out a piece of parchment from the satchel slung over his back. "Your second prize."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I almost died and all I get is a piece of parchment?" he asked.

Sirius smirked. "There's a secret to it...you figure it out and I solemnly swear you'll get your third mission," he stated. Remus frowned, shoving a hand through his light brown hair.

James rolled his eyes and winked at the blonde. "You just have to promise that you're up to no good," he stated.

The four left the infirmary and Remus found himself running into a brunette as she entered the infirmary. She fell onto her butt and ended up in a similar position to the day before: in an ungraceful heap before her future best friend's godfather. "Hermione, nice running into you again," Sirius said, his obsidian eyes full of mirth as he helped her up.

"You too," she stated, dusting herself off. "Is he still awake?"

The mirth left Sirius's eyes but Hermione didn't notice. "He is. You'd better hurry, Madam Pomfrey's about ready to close the infirmary for the night."

Hermione nodded her thanks as she walked past the three Marauders and into the infirmary. Remus let out a low whistle as Sirius watched Hermione brush past. "You've got it bad, Padfoot," he stated.

"Shut up, Moony," he scowled as he, Remus and Peter walked toward the Gryffindor dorms. James taking the other direction to the Head Boy and Girl's dorm.

* * *

When Hermione noticed Draco, he was engrossed in a piece of parchment. _Wonder if this is like the diary that Father gave the little Weaselette second year,_ he mused. He rescued a quill and a pot of ink from the satchel that lie haphazardly on the chair by his bed. _I am Draco,_ he wrote. The letters dissolved into the parchment. 

_Mr. Moony says that Draco has to promise._

_Mr. Padfoot thinks that Draco is a moron. He's not getting it write..._

_Getting it write?_ Draco mused. _Someone needs to work on their grammar skills..._

_Mr. Prongs disagrees with Mr. Padfoot and thinks Draco is up to too much good._

_Mr. Wormtail solemnly agrees with Mr. Prongs._

_Mr. Wormtail doesn't seem to have a mind of his own,_ Draco scowled. Hermione frowned. "Is that what I think it is?" Hermione asked. Draco jumped slightly and let out a little yelp as he aggravated his bruised body.

"Doubt it...it's just a blank piece of parchment," Draco scowled, he tried to hide it but Hermione grabbed it.

Hermione turned away from Draco, placed her wand on the parchment and said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Before her eyes, the blank piece of parchment became a detailed map of Hogwarts. Her eyes widened as she noticed the two dots marked with Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. _I definitely need to find a way to fix that,_ she mused, tapping the map again. "Mischief managed." She turned to face Draco, brandishing the map. "Where did you get this?"

"What is it?" Draco asked, bored.

"Where. Did. You. Get. This?" she repeated.

"James, Sirius, Remus and Peter gave it to me," Draco stated. "I can't believe they'd give this to--to a **Slytherin**," she cried, spitting the word Slytherin as if it was the worst thing she could ever say to anyone. Draco smirked as his eyes danced to the green and silver tie and the Slytherin seal emblazoned on Hermione's robe.

"You're one too," he replied. Hermione smacked his side where the bandages wrapped around his ribs. He cried out. "Bloody hell, you sadistic bitch!"

"Poor ickle ferret," Hermione patronized and Draco glared at her, holding his injured ribs.

"You are a cruel, callous woman, Granger," he stated.

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "**I** am? I'm not the one who tried to get our teachers sacked, almost had a poor hippogriff killed...and whose family abuses poor house-elves!" she stated. She said the last as if it was the worst offense that the Malfoy family could have ever committed.

Draco smirked and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a bad, bad man. Tell me something that I don't already know," he said, his voice deadpan.

Hermione scowled at him. "Why did I come to see you again?" she asked.

"Because I'm so devastatingly handsome," Draco suggested.

"Devastatingly annoying is more like it," Hermione sniffed. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

"G'night, Granger," Draco replied as the brunette walked out. Draco watched the soft sway of her hips as she left and wondered what she'd look like without those bloody robes to hide his view of that tantalizingly short skirt. His eyes widened. _Bloody hell! She **did** mess with my mind..._ he thought. He frowned as he realized that she had taken the parchment. _What the hell was so special about that?_

* * *

Hermione yawned as she entered the Head common room, Lily was nowhere to be seen but a black-haired boy sat in the corner of the room. Hermione's eyes widened. "Harry?" she asked hopefully. 

The boy looked up and Hermione realized that it was just James wearing glasses as he looked over his homework. He quickly pulled off his glasses and put them away. "Er...who's Harry?" he asked.

Hermione frowned. "He's a friend of mine...from Agnitio. You looked a lot like him for a moment," she said.

James smirked. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "It's a good thing, believe me. Harry's been my dearest friend since I was eleven. He and Ron...they're the closest thing I have to brothers," she said.

James smiled warmly at her. "Glad to remind you of home," he said.

Hermione took a seat on the scarlet sofa. "It's nice to be reminded of home," she said.

"What about Draco?" he asked.

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Let's just say that Draco...is, well...he's Draco. That's all there is to describe him," she said. _Well, the only way to describe him without using the words "arrogant rat-faced bastard" among others,_ she added mentally. She yawned. "I'd better get to bed."

James nodded, put his glasses back on and went back to his homework. Hermione grabbed her journal and began to write.

_September 3, 1977_

_Another day has passed and I still have no idea how to get back to the future. Ron, never, ever call Professor Snape evil again. He's like Mother Teresa compared to the horrible monster that calls himself a Potions Master: Professor Flaherty. _

I met Draco's mother, Narcissa, today. She is a sixth year Slytherin and is already engaged to marry the house-elf abusing, Dark Arts-practicing, general bastard/school governor/Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. I feel so sorry for her. In three years, she'll be married to that jerk and have Draco. Poor, poor woman.

I have some rather scary news on my front -- Harry, Ron, I'm a Slytherin. I know, it's horrible, isn't it? I -- Hermione Jane Granger -- am a Slytherin! I'm so glad that I get to share the Head Girl's room...I don't even **want** to think about what the Slytherins would do if they found out about my parents.

You'll never believe it...but Malfoy, he's a Gryffindor! Draco Malfoy, spawn of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Juvenile Death Eater, ferret-boy and all-around rat bastard is now a Gryffindor. I think the Sorting Hat's lost its mind. (Does the Sorting Hat have a mind to lose?)

Harry, Malfoy's the Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team with your dad -- Seeker, Snuffles -- Beater, Euan Abercrombie's dad or relative (I assume) Owen Abercrombie -- Beater, Professor Lupin -- Chaser (don't know how he does it with his condition), Regulus Black -- Chaser, and David Stebbins -- Chaser.

Harry, I wish you could be here. Then you could see Sirius again...and meet your parents. You'd adore them...your father reminds me a lot like Fred and George. He's really nice and he's mad for your mum. Your mum's oblivious but I think he's going to invite her to the Halloween dance.

You'll never believe who asked me to go to the Halloween Masque with him: Professor Snape (never, ever let him see this). Don't you dare laugh! He's really nice when you get to know him -- we talked over breakfast about Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. And after the cruel and evil Professor Flaherty took seventy points from Slytherin because of me (stupid Malfoy's fault), he was the only Slytherin that didn't want to use an Unforgivable on me.

_Love,  
Hermione_

Hermione stared at the journal for the longest time before retreating back into the common room. Lily had entered the room from her patrol and had lain out her homework. "Um, Lily, do you have a blank notebook I could borrow?" Hermione asked.

Lily frowned at the Slytherin. "Sure," she said, retrieving a Muggle spiral notebook.

"Thanks, Lily," the brunette said, going back into the Head Girl's room. Lily watched the girl go and stared curiously after her. With a shake of her head, she went back to work on her homework.

Once in the safety of the Head Girl's room, Hermione cast a Protean charm on the two notebooks. In her original notebook, she wrote Hermione Granger on the inside of the cover. In the second book, the same words appeared. Hermione smiled at her handiwork and hid her original journal. She left the Head Girl's room and walked to Dumbledore's office, uttering the password.

The gargoyle moved to the side and Hermione went up the spiral staircase into the Headmaster's office. Inside, Dumbledore talked with a man that seemed very vaguely familiar to her. He was tall with dark hair held back in a ponytail. "Thank you for your concern, Damian," Professor Dumbledore said.

The man turned and Hermione stared at him as he brushed past her like she didn't even notice her. The man was handsome with black hair, a chiseled face, olive skin and dark brown eyes. There was a coldness in his eyes that she'd seen before...in Lucius Malfoy's eyes. She shivered and continued into the office. "Er...Professor, could you save this for my friends, Harry and Ron...they're Gryffindors, sixth years in 1996?" she asked. "They're probably worried about me." She handed the notebook to the man and he nodded.

"Very well, Miss Granger, you'd best be getting to your common room, it's almost curfew," the man said, his blue eyes twinkling. Hermione smiled and exited his office. Dumbledore smiled after the girl and carefully tucked the book in his desk drawer.


	15. Breakfast with the Marauders

Part 15:  
Breakfast with the Marauders  
(Sunday, September 4, 1977)

Hermione awoke to the sun's pale light streaming through the window. She realized that it was just after dawn and yawned. Between her studies and the constant threat of untimely death at the wand of Voldemort or a Death Eater, Hermione had found that she didn't need much sleep to function well. Now that one of her distractions (Voldemort currently wasn't around and trying to kill her and her friends) had been eliminated, she had more time to work on other things. Like the Marauder's Map.  
  
She had always been interested in the magic of the Marauder's Map, hoping that it would come in handy in her chosen career path of Aurorcy. After much convincing by Ron and Harry, she had decided that she met all the criteria of a successful Auror and the map would come in handy. Since she had first learned about the Marauder's Map, she had been insanely curious about it. What made it work? Had the Marauders explored every single nook and cranny of Hogwarts? Or had they used a complex location spell? If it was the latter, then one could create a highly-detailed map of a place they'd never been before...possibly even listing objects as well as people.  
  
Now, Hermione had a lot of free time. _That happens when someone's not out to kill you or your friends every minute of every day,_ she mused wisely. The past three years had been so incredibly hectic -- she'd been nearly killed numerous times, created S.P.E.W., dated an internationally famous Seeker, been held hostage by merpeople, joined Dumbledore's Army (or rather **formed** Dumbledore's Army), and raided Britain's Ministry of Magic. Between that, studying for school, the O.W.L.s, and the upcoming N.E.W.T.s, Hermione had absolutely **no** time to find out the map's secrets.  
  
Hermione pulled the map from her satchel, a picture dropping out. The brunette carefully picked up the moving photograph of a smiling Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Percy, Bill, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley. It had been taken at the World Quidditch Cup before things had changed so much. Before Cedric had died, before Sirius had died, before Voldemort had risen again. Hermione swallowed past the emotional constriction in her throat.  
  
To take her mind off her thoughts of the death and destruction that would occur in the future, she got dressed, grabbed her satchel, and left the Head Girl's room for the common room. The brunette pulled her hair into a ponytail and set out her ink pot and parchment. She immediately began working on her homework that wasn't due for another week. She had already finished the work she'd been assigned from the rest of her classes and had been putting off Flaherty's parchment on the mystical properties of bloodroot, which was a strengthening agent in vengeance and healing potions. She lost track of time as she completed two more feet of parchment than had been required.  
  
A loud yawn pulled Hermione from her work. Hermione turned to see James standing in his Gryffindor red pajamas, his hair even more mussed than usual from sleep. "You're up early, Hermione," James murmured. "It's Sunday after all."  
  
"Sunday? But we had classes yesterday," Hermione frowned.  
  
James nodded. "Yes," he stated. "The first week of school was so short that Professor Dumbledore thought we should work on Saturday to make up for it."  
  
"Oh," Hermione said. Hermione was definitely having trouble with the time travel thing. "Well, I got Professor Flaherty's report done." She cast a quick drying spell on the parchment and carefully rolled it up. She stretched out. "And anyway, I've been an early riser since my first year."  
  
James smiled at her. "And I thought I was an early riser, it's only eight..." he stated and Hermione smirked. "I guess Lily's still sleeping. Bet it's the only time she sleeps with all the homework she does."  
  
"You like her, don't you?" Hermione asked.  
  
James got a sappy puppy-dog look on his handsome face. "I do," he answered. "She hates me though."  
  
"She doesn't hate you," Hermione insisted. James arched a brow. "She doesn't get along with you...but she doesn't **hate** you. I promise. Maybe you should try to be nice to her...you know, ask her to Hogsmeade or something." She shrugged.  
  
James frowned, remembering his previous experiences of asking the redhead to Hogsmeade. "She'd never go with me to Hogsmeade, I've asked before," he stated.  
  
"I could help you out a little. You know, spy or something..." she trailed off.  
  
"Slytherins are good at that kind of thing," he stated. "Er...well, you have to have some kind of Slytherin trait. You seem far too nice to be a Slytherin."  
  
Hermione frowned. "I'm not a Slytherin, you know. I'm still Hermione, nothing's changed because I got Sorted into that stupid House," she said.  
  
"What's in a House? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," he stated.  
  
Hermione's eyes widened with glee. "You know Shakespeare?" she asked. "But he's a Muggle!"  
  
James sighed and shook his head. "Why does everyone think that just because he wrote plays **for** Muggles that he **was** a Muggle? He went to Hogwarts during his so-called 'lost years,' he was a Ravenclaw," he stated. With a wink, he added, "Everyone knows that _Romeo and Juliet_ was about a romance between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin."  
  
A sudden realization dawned on Hermione. "'Two Houses, both a like in dignity...'" she murmured. "I just...assumed."  
  
James smirked. "Actually, it's 'two house**holds**, both alike in dignity.' And you know what they say about assuming, it makes an ass out of--" he started and Hermione smacked his arm playfully. "You're a violent woman, Hermione de Lioncourt." James made a show of rubbing his arm and Hermione chuckled. "She jests at scars that never felt the wound."  
  
"You are something else, James Potter," she said. Her light mood took on a serious edge. "You really do remind me of Harry. The two of you would have been best friends."  
  
"Did you have a lot of friends at Agnitio?" he inquired curiously. Hermione took a seat on the crimson velvet settee and James joined her.  
  
There was a long pause. "I had a fair amount of acquaintances, but my best friends were Harry and Ron. We were inseparable since they saved me from a mountain troll in first year."  
  
"Blimey, a mountain troll?" he asked and Hermione nodded. "In first year? And they survived?"  
  
Hermione nodded on both accounts. "Harry stuck his wand up the troll's nose and Ron used _Wingardium Leviosa_ on the troll's club. The troll was knocked out," she said. James was obviously impressed.  
  
"Do you help your friends on your grand adventures?" James asked and Hermione nodded. "You should join the Dueling Club." His eyes sparkled and Hermione realized that they were hazel, not blue as she had previously thought. "It's the only way you can get away with jinxing other people in front of the teachers. It's mostly Slytherins and Gryffindors...so you get a chance to jinx Slytherins..." he trailed off as Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Er...right...Slytherin. No offense to your House."  
  
"None taken," Hermione stated. "When does it meet?"  
  
James looked at the clock. "In about three hours," he stated. "In the dueling room, I'll take you there."  
  
Hermione smiled. "Sounds like an idea," she stated. Her stomach growled angrily and Hermione realized that she hadn't eaten since supper. "Wanna go get breakfast?"  
  
"I'm meeting Sirius, Remus, and Peter in the Great Hall in about ten minutes, you sure you can stand those prats long enough?" James teased and Hermione grinned at him.  
  
"I'm sure I can manage," Hermione stated with a hint of a grin.  
  
James grinned in return and the two made it through the halls of Hogwarts, chatting about nothing much in particular. When they entered the Great Hall, they found Sirius, Remus, and Peter talking animatedly. "Who's going next?" Peter asked.  
  
"I am," Sirius stated. "Aquilus won't stand a chance when I give him his third mission, so don't worry, Remus."  
  
Hermione frowned and gave James a confused look. James coughed loudly and the three others immediately stopped talking. "Hello, Hermione," Sirius said. "You're going to sit with us today?"  
  
Hermione smiled and took the empty seat by Sirius across from Remus while James took the empty seat on Sirius's other side. Whispers ricocheted through the Great Hall at Hermione's action. It was a well-known fact throughout Hogwarts that on weekends, the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs would mingle with one another, sitting at each other's tables. Slytherins always stuck to their table. In two days, Hermione Granger had broken three of the unwritten laws that the Slytherins adhered to since the days of Salazar Slytherin himself. She was a Muggle-born (of course, she didn't think anyone realized that), she was "dating" a Gryffindor, and now she was sitting at the Gryffindor table. With the Marauders, well-known Slytherin-haters.  
  
There was a long pause, full of awkward silence. Hermione frowned. "If you'd like me to go, I will...sorry to intrude," she stammered, moving to leave the table.  
  
"No," Sirius said, placing a hand on her forearm to still her.  
  
_You know, Sirius is rather handsome..._ the traitorous voice in her head that had her thinking about naked Lucius and Draco started up. The hormonal part of her brain quieted when it seemed to realize that when Hermione had known Sirius before, Sirius Black would be a shadow of his former self, haunted by his time in Azkaban. Then he would be dead, Hermione felt guilty about this.  
  
She had known that Sirius was reckless and she hadn't been very nice to him in the time she'd known him. She'd berated him about Kreacher, only for the house-elf to turn against his master and join with the woman that had tortured Neville's parents to insanity. Her blush faded and was replaced by a thoughtful frown as she extricated her arm from Sirius's.  
  
It was like her blood had turned to ice water as she looked at the four Marauders gathered here. They were all chipper and untroubled by the future. The future that would leave both Sirius and James dead, and Peter a traitor. She swallowed hard and tried to speak but her voice failed her. She took a sip of orange juice and tried again. "So...why were you talking about Draco?" she asked. The Marauders didn't get to answer because at that moment a blonde sat at their table beside Peter.  
  
"Narcissa, what are you doing at our table?" Sirius growled.  
  
"Can't a girl spend some time with her favorite cousin?" Narcissa chirped.  
  
"Not really, considering the fact that I've been disowned and you're the perfect little pureblood, off to marry Malfoy," Sirius stated in a condescending tone.  
  
Narcissa ignored Sirius's comment and her blue eyes immediately left her cousin to examine Hermione. "I hear you're dating a Gryffindor." She grinned. "I can't blame you, that Aquilus boy is awfully handsome. Hell, I'd date him."  
  
Hermione's mind left the fact that Narcissa Black had Farrah hair and looked like she'd just stepped off the disco floor when she realized that Draco's **mother** had just commented about dating her **son**. "You'd date Draco?" Hermione repeated numbly.  
  
Narcissa smiled. "He's cute," she said, her nose wrinkling as she grinned. Hermione suppressed a shudder. _Well...I knew purebloods had a tendency toward incest...but this is downright...disgusting,_ Hermione mused.  
  
"Draco's not your type, believe me," Hermione stated.  
  
Narcissa's eyes lit with challenge. "I wouldn't bet on that," Narcissa scoffed, leaving the table. _She wants to date Draco? And Draco's father wants to date Draco..._ she thought. _Draco's going to be even **more** mentally unstable when we get home._


	16. Star Cross'd Lovers

Part 16:  
Star-Cross'd Lovers  
(Sunday, September 4, 1977 – Continued...)

As soon as Hermione got over the fact that Draco's parents wanted to do him, she actively joined in conversation with the Marauders. Sirius was their rebellious clown, Remus was their sensible side, James was the obvious leader, and Peter hung onto their every word, adding bits to the conversation. Hermione was finding it difficult to understand **why** Peter, who obviously adored his friends, would turn on them like he did. Unless Peter was a better actor than he seemed.

Or something in the next four years would cause a rift between them. Maybe it had something to do with what Dumbledore had told Harry after the raid. Harry had been different since then and wouldn't tell her or Ron anything. She dwelled on her thoughts, only joining in when she was addressed directly. Eventually, Hermione's monosyllabic responses were called to the front. "Hermione," Sirius drawled.

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at Sirius, not unlike a deer in headlights. "Um...what?" she asked.

"Tell us about yourself," Sirius stated. Hermione paled considerably.

"Well...um...there's not much to tell actually," Hermione stammered. "I was born September 19, 19...60. I was born in London. Er...I've got a younger sister named Annabel. I started Agnitio in...1972 and that's where I met Draco. We didn't like each other very much in the beginning, he thought I was beneath him..." she trailed off and blushed as Sirius sent her a winning grin at her possible double entendre. "You're horrible, Sirius."

"You don't know how many times a day he hears that from lovely ladies," Remus said with a wink at Hermione.

Sirius sniffed. "Stuff it, Remy," he stated in a mocking tone.

"Very mature, **Siri**," Remus cajoled, his tone as mocking as his friend's. James grinned; he was thoroughly enjoying his friends' idiotic banter. Remus's blue eyes settled on Hermione and nodded his head in a "go on" motion.

Hermione took a bite of her toast, chewing it thoughtfully as she tried to figure out what she could tell them without telling **too** much. "Tell 'em about the troll," James said. _Good idea, rough sketches,_ she mused.

"The troll?" Sirius asked.

"Well, in my first year at Agnitio..." she started then relayed the tale of the troll. Sirius, Peter, and Remus stared at her.

"Wow...a troll," Peter murmured. "Was it big?"

"No, Peter, it was little," Sirius stated with a roll of his dark eyes.

"So...second year?" Sirius asked.

"Er...well, really normal, actually," Hermione stated. She wasn't sure **how** she could explain to them about the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk without mentioning Voldemort or the Boy Who Lived. Especially since the Boy Who Lived had only lived because of his parents' sacrifice.

Sirius didn't seem to believe her response but didn't press the matter. "And third year?" Remus asked.

"I'll tell you...later," she said, paling slightly. _Much, much, much later,_ she mused.

"Fourth year?" Peter asked, he had been enthralled about her tale of the troll and was eager to learn more about the mysterious Slytherin.

Hermione chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Nothing much," Hermione said. "Rather boring, really. Except for the Yule Ball." Hermione decided that now would be a time to supply the tale of her "courtship" with Draco. He had looked at her quite oddly that night and had ignored Pansy. Hermione had almost believed that he was actually jealous. "Well, before fourth year, Draco and I hated each other. Then the Yule Ball came and things changed..." She allowed herself a dreamy grin.

Sirius looked petulant and Remus chuckled softly. Interestingly enough for a girl so smart, Hermione seemed oblivious to Sirius's infatuation with her. "My parents had bought me these beautiful blue dress robes and I had taken Parvati's advice on fixing my hair. Harry and Ron didn't even recognize me. They became slobbering idiots when they saw me."

Hermione could picture the events in her mind. She had hoped that her friends would realize that she was actually a girl. And maybe, just maybe, Harry would look at her; **really** look at her and fall in love.

She'd had the biggest crush on Harry since they'd first become friends...and had wanted to get back at him for his affections on Cho Chang. That was the main reason that she'd gone with Viktor to the Yule Ball. Viktor had been a really nice guy and Hermione had gotten over Harry because of him. He had proven to her that friends didn't have to end up "together" in the end like the telly and movies preached. And no matter what Ron thought, she and Viktor were **just friends**. "And...?" Peter interrupted her thoughts. The brunette blushed.

She swallowed hard. "I danced with them for a while and then in came Draco. He wore black velvet dress robes with an ice blue shirt and gray trousers. The ice blue color turned his eyes the color of the sea under a storm, a sort of blue-gray color that I'd never seen before. He looked amazing." Draco **had** looked amazing at the Yule Ball, she realized. The black velvet dress robes he had worn had reminded her of a song she'd heard her mother singing once. "Black velvet and that little boy smile, black velvet with that slow southern style, a new religion that'll bring ya to your knees, black velvet if you please."

Hermione was lost in her tale, Peter's brown eyes were glued to her as he listened intently. "He saw me, thinking I was some exotic new girl that he'd never seen before. He asked me to dance and I accepted; I figured I could always taunt him about dancing with a Muggle-born later." Hermione was so involved in her storytelling that she didn't realize that she had admitted that she was Muggle-born to the Marauders. "He was the greatest dancer...we talked between dances and he turned out to be incredibly witty and charming--" _If only that would happen in real life,_ Hermione mused. "He kissed me and I saw my future in his eyes. I had fallen in love with Draco Aquilus."

Sirius made a retching sound and Hermione realized that her audience was completely comprised of males, seventeen-year-old males. Although Parvati and Lavender would have loved it, gushing about how romantic it was. Hermione blushed. It was definitely a fanciful yarn. Draco Malfoy would never fall in love with a Muggle-born. Not that Hermione cared, of course...

* * *

**Author's Note**: The song mentioned by Hermione is "Black Velvet" by Alannah Myles.


	17. The Paladin

Part 17:  
The Paladin  
(Sunday, September 4, 1977 – Continued...)

Hermione, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter went to the dueling room for Dueling Club. Hermione hadn't been to a Dueling Club since second year and was nervous and excited about the experience. She supposed that, in all technicality, her time with the D.A. could be considered a dueling club...but Hermione counted it as an extracurricular Defense Against the Dark Arts class where she could learn something.

In the dueling room, Slytherins (Hermione was glad to see Severus and not so glad to see Narcissa who still bore the look of challenge from earlier) and Gryffindors milled around waiting for Professor Faust to show up. Mentally, Hermione went over the spells she had learned in the D.A. the year before and almost pitied whoever she ended up dueling. She had learned spells that most seventh years hadn't even learned yet. Lily was late, looking rushed, and her hair was still mussed from sleep. To James, she'd never looked more beautiful, he found himself grinning at the girl. She shot him a death glare. "Go talk to her."

James Potter turned to face the voice's source and Hermione arched a brow and nudged him toward the Head Girl. "No," James's voice came out as a squeak.

"Honestly, James," Hermione sighed. "I don't see how Harry was **even** born..." Her hand clamped over her mouth and she stared at him.

"What?" James asked, hazel eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Well...Harry was like this...with a girl...and they fell in love," she stammered weakly. "Go talk to her."

"What do I say?"

_James Potter is asking me?_ Hermione wondered. _What did I get myself into?_ "She likes the Beatles," Hermione stated.

"She likes bugs?" James asked.

"No, not beetles. **The** Beatles: John, Paul, George, and Ringo? Only the greatest rock group **ever**. Don't tell me that you've never heard of them," Hermione said.

"Fine, I won't," James said cheekily.

"You've got to be kidding me! I expected at least **one** of them to be a wizard," Hermione groused. "Okay, so Lily told me they weren't, but still...the Beatles!" She shook her head and stopped her rant. "Anyway--can you sing?"

"What?" James asked. Hermione winced, remembering how unfortunate she was to come upon Harry singing once. It made the Merspeech from the second task sound like the sweet sounds of Tchaikovsky or Brahms. "Yes."

"What I meant to say was 'can you sing well?'" Hermione said.

James rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can, I happen to have a great voice," James sniffed.

"In that case," Hermione said. "You might try singing to her. In the Great Hall. During breakfast. You know, make sure she **knows** that you like her. It's romantic. Later, I'll tell you some of the Beatles' songs and you can choose one."

In walked Faust and Hermione understood why Narcissa was there. Hermione recognized him from the night before, he was the man she'd seen leaving Dumbledore's office. All of the girls (excluding Hermione -- who had learned from her Lockhart experience that looks were highly-overrated) looked at him with barely-disguised lust. "Hello, Professor Faust," Narcissa chirped, grinning as the man nodded at her.

"I understand that we have some new members of the Dueling Club," he said in a crisp, deep voice with a smooth accent. A chorus of sighs filled the room and Hermione rolled her eyes. She felt like she was back at the Quidditch tryouts with the simpering Gryffindor fans.

Faust clapped his hands. "Everyone pair up. Slytherins versus Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs versus Ravenclaws," he stated. Hermione looked around the room and smiled as Sirius walked over.

"Care to duel?" he asked and Hermione nodded. "I promise I'll go easy on you."

"No...**I** promise to go easy on you, Sirius," Hermione stated. The two faced each other and Sirius winked.

"On three. One, two three..." he stated.

"_Expelliarmus!_" she cried and Sirius's wand flew from his hand. Sirius's eyes widened and he grabbed his wand.

"Let's try this again," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "One, two, three..."

"_Silencio!_" Hermione said and Sirius's mouth opened but no sound came out. His pride was starting to ache now. He eyed Hermione and with a little smirk, the bushy-haired witch ended the spell with _Finite Incantatum_.

The two began to circle one another, waiting for the next move. Sirius finally ended the tension. "_Rictusempra!_" Sirius cried.

It looked as if Sirius was going to finally retrieve some of his pride. Well, that was before Hermione deflected his spell with a cry of "_Protego!_" Sirius immediately began to laugh uncontrollably. Now, people were pausing their duels to watch Sirius Black, Gryffindor Beater and Marauder, being bested by a slight brunette girl. "_Finite Incantatum._"

Sirius was annoyed, he became even more so when Hermione cast the Jelly-Legs Jinx on him. Again, Hermione said, "_Finite Incantatum._ She grinned at him, enjoying the power that she held over the older boy. "Had enough, Sirius?"

"Never," he growled, dark eyes narrowing in challenge much like his cousin's had been set earlier. He readied his wand and thought up his next jinx.

But Hermione was quicker. "_Infucatum Ostrinus,_" Hermione said. At that moment, Sirius Black literally turned purple. There was a collective gasp and Peter Pettigrew began to laugh hysterically. James stopped his duel with Severus to stare at his friend and Severus took the opportunity to cast _Tarantallegra_ on him.

James's legs began to move crazily and Hermione put a stop to it with an utterance of, "_Finite Incantatum._"

"What's so bloody funny?" Sirius growled, glaring openly at the chubby boy laughing at him.

"You're...you're..." Peter gasped between chuckles.

"Spit it out!" Sirius growled menacingly.

"You're...uh...well...you're...purple," Peter finally bit out.

"I can't be purple," Sirius replied.

"He's right, you know. Maybe it's violet," James said to Remus and Peter. Sirius stared at his arm, his dark eyes widening as he took in the unnatural shade his tanned skin had taken. He paled to a lavender color.

"Make it go away," Sirius said, staring at Hermione.

Hermione smiled wickedly at Sirius. "I can't...there's no counter-curse," she stated. Which was true, Fred and George had cast the spell on their Color-Changing Cookies, which turned the eater different colors.

Sirius's jaw dropped. "What?" he squeaked.

"It should fade in a few hours," Hermione stated, grinning cheekily at him.

"**SHOULD**?" Sirius cried and Peter doubled-over with howling laughter. This caught Professor Faust's attention and the man walked over. His brown eyes widened as he took in the student's color.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher eyed Sirius with curiosity. "Who cast this spell?" he asked.

"I did," Hermione said. She bit her bottom lip as the teacher's eyes narrowed.

"Very inventive, Miss--?" Faust started.

"Hermione...de Lioncourt," she stated and Faust nodded thoughtfully. Sirius, Remus, James, and Peter winced. None of the Gryffindors with half a brain trusted the Slytherin Head of House, there was something off about him.

"Very inventive..." Hermione grinned and Faust's eyes slitted "...but extremely pointless, Miss de Lioncourt. Five points from Slytherin. If you were in a real duel, coloring your opponent purple would be a simple waste of time that would end up with you most likely attacked by an Unforgivable...or something allowed but no less painful."

Hermione felt a phantom pang go through her at the memory of Dolohov's curse. "I know," she stated, her brown eyes meeting Faust's in challenge. "I'm well aware of that...professor. It's just...I don't know any spells that would be useful in a play-battle."

Faust's sensuous lips curled into a sneer. "Is that so, Miss de Lioncourt?" he asked. "Then what spells **do** you know that would be useful in a real situation."

Hermione's chin rose in challenge. "Quite a few, professor," she said. She hadn't had many good experiences with Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers and she was beginning to feel the same about Faust.

Faust's full lips turned into a cruel smirk. He clapped his hands and all of the dueling pairs stopped and turned toward the four Gryffindors, two Slytherins, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Hermione's eyes widened as she noticed who Narcissa Black dueled. None other than Lucius Malfoy. _What is **he** doing here?_ she thought.

"Lucius, come here," Faust ordered and Lucius walked over. Hermione's eyes widened as she noticed the way he walked toward her...like a lion stalking its prey. They narrowed as she realized how ridiculous her analogy was. _**I'm** the lion here...he's just the bloody snake,_ she thought. "Lucius Malfoy, this is Hermione de Lioncourt...she seems to think she's very good at Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Lucius smirked at the girl and Hermione shuddered. He didn't look **that** much older but she estimated him to be around twenty-two or twenty-three. "Is that so, Damian?" Malfoy said.

"Lucius is one of the school's governors and he was exceptionally good at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Faust stated. "It's a little-known tradition in dueling clubs where two will duel with their Patroni. You'd know this if you were any good at all at Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Hermione nodded, she **had** read about it. But it was so rare an occurrence because not many people could create a corporeal Patronus. "Then you'll know the rules. A Patronus show how efficient a witch or wizard is at Defense Against the Dark Arts. The more magical abilities one possesses, the stronger his or her Patronus. The Patronus left standing is the winner," Faust stated. "Now, produce your Patroni." He obviously didn't think Hermione could produce one by the way he acted.

"After you, Lucius," Hermione stated.

"Ladies first," Lucius smirked. He agreed with Faust apparently. The Gryffindors and Slytherins rolled their eyes. Their sentiments were with Faust and Lucius.

"No, really, I insist," Hermione said. Severus smirked at this; he really hoped that she had been truthful. He would really love to see Narcissa's fiancé taken down a few notches. The best way for this to happen was for him to be bested by a sixteen-year-old girl.

"As you wish," Lucius stated. "_Expecto Patronum!_" A blast of silvery vapor left Lucius's wand and formed into a cobra.

The cobra hissed at Hermione and she frowned. Could her otter face off against a cobra? She swallowed hard and incanted, "_Expecto Patronum!_" Silvery smoke came from her wand and formed into her Patronus.

There were chuckles from her fellow Slytherins mingled with sounds of awe. Faust was surprised that she could create a corporeal Patronus even if it **was** an otter. Lucius laughed outright. "An otter?" he smirked.

Hermione looked affronted. "An otter is a noble creature," she stated. "Which is more than I can say for a **Malfoy**." She had decided that the best way to win this was to channel her ire and annoyance at Lucius's future son into her magic. She concentrated all of the times that Draco had made fun of her, Ron, and Harry into the Patronus, mingled with the happiness at the thought of defeating his father.

Slowly, Hermione's Patronus began to grow larger, the silvery light turned golden and Faust stared at it. The otter let out a loud squeak and attacked the cobra. The snake hissed at the otter and retreated toward its master. The otter pounced on it and bit the cobra's head off. Lucius's Patronus dissipated into a wisp silver smoke. The students stared at the golden otter and there was a smattering of applause throughout the room but mostly stunned silence.

Lucius looked angry enough to cast _Avada Kedavra_ on her. "That was...very good, Miss de Lioncourt," Faust stated. "That's all for today. We'll meet next Saturday at one."

"Er...you may go," Hermione murmured and the otter dissipated.

"The Force is strong with this one," Remus stated.

"You've seen _Star Wars_?" Hermione asked.

"Hasn't everybody?" Remus stated.

"H--how'd you do that?" James stammered as he walked with Hermione and the Marauders.

"I'm not sure, I've never heard about that happening before," Hermione whispered.

Remus stared at her with unveiled respect. "She created a Paladin," he stated.

"A what?" James asked.

"A corporeal Patronus is a Patronus that takes on a form...but a Paladin...they're rarer than Animagi," he stated. The three other Marauders shared a secretive grin. "Paladins require an exceedingly strong amount of magic and emotion. Extremely rare."

"Wow." She took a long moment to think over Remus's statement. "So...so I have enough power to become an Animagus?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening.

James nodded. "An Animagus requires more talent than magic. You've definitely got enough magic for it," he stated.

Hermione grinned. "I've always wanted to be an Animagus...since my third year," she murmured.

"What happened in your third year?" Sirius asked.

She smiled. "I met two Animagi then," Hermione stated. "And a werewolf." She paused for effect, her brown eyes centered on Remus. The werewolf's eyes widened "You know, werewolves aren't as bad as everyone thinks they are. I've even heard of the Wolfsbane Potion, it's supposed to make werewolves as docile as house dogs."

"Wolfsbane?" Remus asked. "Like the herb used in memory potions?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes...well, not quite, the herb used in memory potions is **wolfbane**, also known as aconite..." she trailed off. "I don't know much about it...the Wolfsbane Potion, I mean...it's supposed to be very difficult. My professor was a werewolf and our Potions professor made the potion for him..." She trailed off, eyes widening. She'd told them way too much.

"A professor made the potion for another professor," Sirius asked, eyes narrowing.

Hermione winced at Sirius's questions. _You know, you're supposed to be the smart one, the one who isn't going to fix the future!_ Hermione berated herself. "H--he did. Agnitio a lot more...er...accepting of people. A--and, as a matter of fact, my werewolf teacher wasn't a teacher...well...he **was** a teacher, of course, b--but not the school's teacher...a tutor. Yes, a tutor...an independent tutor.

"So your Potions professor made the potion for your tutor," Remus asked. "Why?"

"Er...uh...they knew each other in school..." she stammered. "Um, I--I have to go check on Draco." _I, Hermione Jane Granger, am an idiot!_

With that, Hermione raced from the dueling room. "She's one odd bird," Peter murmured. The three other Marauders examined the girl with unveiled curiosity.

Hermione groaned loudly as she left the dueling room. She was supposed to be the smart one. She was the most-likely candidate for becoming 1997-1998's Head Girl. She was the one who had gotten them into this mess -- okay, no, **she** hadn't...idiot Malfoy and his idiot wolfbane and idiot hellebore had. She was supposed to keep Malfoy from changing the future and not change it herself.

_How could **I** have been so stupid?_ she demanded of herself. _It's one thing to talk about the Wolfsbane Potion but an entirely different thing to very nearly say that **Severus Snape** had brewed **Remus Lupin's** Wolfsbane Potion!_ Her eyes narrowed as realization hit. _Malfoy probably orchestrated everything under Voldemort's orders...so he could kill James and Lily before Harry was born._

Hermione's brow wrinkled in thought as she remembered _The Time Machine_. _How could someone do that though? Go back in time to stop something from happening? If you were ordered to kill someone in the past in the future...then the person in the past would be dead before the future happened. Then the orders could never have been given._ She could feel a migraine sneaking up on her. _I **hate** this time traveling._

But at that moment, she needed to find something out. Purposefully, Hermione wound through the halls of Hogwarts to the infirmary.


	18. Boredom and Bonding

Part 18:  
Boredom and Bonding  
(Sunday, September 4, 1977 – Continued...)

Draco Malfoy was bored. Very bored. Very, **very** bored. His only joy was tormenting Madam Pomfrey. And now the nurse had gone out, muttering about Gryffindors and their perpetual ability to get hurt. Draco was assuming that she was talking about James and his friends. And Draco was inclined to acquiesce. Since he'd started at Hogwarts, a year hadn't gone by without at least one of the Gryffindors ending up in the infirmary.  
  
Draco had taken up some time thinking about the cases of Gryffindors ending up in the infirmary. First year, Potter. Second year, Potter, Granger, and that annoying boy with the Muggle camera. Third year...well, for once, a Gryffindor hadn't ended up in the infirmary...wait a tick, Harry Potter the Amazing Bouncing Seeker had ended up in the infirmary after the dementors. Fourth year, Hermione had ended up in the infirmary after his _Densaugueo_ had hit her. Fifth year, Weasel, Granger, Weaselette, and Largebottom had ended up in the infirmary after they'd encountered his father and the Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic.  
  
Now, Draco was bored again. He'd decided to count things in paintings. There were exactly four-hundred and fifty-seven flowers in the painting of Lady Bronwyn the Healer, the portrait hanging in front of his bed. Lady Bronwyn was incredibly dull. She would tsk-tsk him whenever he tried to move or speak. "Now, now, young Draco, you shouldn't be exerting yourself," the woman said. She had an annoying mothering tone.  
  
Truth be told, Draco was feeling a lot better. His ribs seemed to have completely healed overnight. But that blasted mother hen Pomfrey refused to let him go. He had to get out of this bloody place before he went insane.  
  
Just as he was about to sneak out, Hermione Granger strode in purposefully. _Oh, goodie, a Mudblood to torture! Finally, something to do,_ he mused as he looked over her.  
  
Hermione put her hands on her hips and stared at Draco, a determined tilt to her chin. "Show me your left arm," she ordered.  
  
"What?" Draco asked.  
  
The bushy-haired brunette stared at him. "Show...me...your...left...arm," she repeated. When Draco didn't get a chance to reply when Hermione pulled up the sleeve of his robe.  
  
"Careful on the goods, love," he stated melodramatically. "I bruise easily." Hermione examined his arm thoroughly and let out a sigh of relief as she realized that he didn't bear the Dark Mark. "Was there a point to that or did you just want to ogle me?"  
  
"You're a bastard," she sighed, shoving a tendril of hair out of her face.  
  
"My parents would both disagree with that," Draco said. Hermione snorted and burst into laughter and Draco arched a brow. When he spoke again, he sounded offended, "Did I say something funny?  
  
"Maybe they would...if they weren't too busy hitting on you," she stated.  
  
Draco's silver eyes narrowed as he glared at the Muggle-born. "That was **one** time, Granger. And Father was hitting on **you** as well," Draco defended himself.  
  
"Yeah, but your mum wasn't hitting on **me** earlier when she started talking about how cute you were," she stated.  
  
"M--my mother?" Draco's voice was strangely high and his skin became translucent as he paled.  
  
Hermione nodded, enjoying his reaction thoroughly. "You know, you're the victim of a reverse Oedipus and Electra complex. You might want to invest in some quality psychiatric help when we get home," she suggested. Draco stared at her for a while. "It's a Muggle thing." She cocked her head and examined his still-bare arm. "You're extremely pale."  
  
"Well, isn't that a bloody **brilliant** observation, Granger," he scowled. "I don't tan, I burn or...freckle." He shuddered.  
  
"What's wrong with freckling?" she asked defensively, remembering the smattering of freckles that she had.  
  
"It's just not...dignified. Malfoys **do not** freckle," he sniffed.  
  
"Well, tell that to your melanin," Hermione stated.  
  
"My...what-a-nin?" Draco asked.  
  
"Your **melanin**," Hermione replied. "Honestly, don't they teach you anything in pre-wizarding school?"  
  
"Pre-wizarding school?" Draco inquired.  
  
"Well, don't purebloods go to school before you end up at Hogwarts, Durmstrang, or Beauxbatons?" she asked.  
  
Draco scowled. "Of course not, we usually have tutors. Or the poor ones end up going to Muggle schools. Horrible," he stated.  
  
"Well, didn't your tutor tell you anything about melanin?" she asked. "Melanin is what gives you a tan or freckles or...well...paleness."  
  
Draco frowned. "How did we get on the subject of melanin?" he asked.  
  
"I said you were very pale," Hermione said.  
  
"Oh," he said. There was a long pause. "Are we having a civilized conversation?"  
  
Hermione frowned. "Oh...wow. We are," she said.  
  
"It's not going to happen again, is it?" Draco asked.  
  
Hermione shook her head in the negative. "No. It isn't ever going to happen again," she said. "It's dead creepy."  
  
It was that time the Marauders burst into the room, seeking answers to Hermione's cryptic comments. "Hello, Hermione, you're going to give us some answers..." Sirius said.


	19. To Tell the Truth?

Part 19:  
To Tell the Truth?  
(Sunday, September 4, 1977 – Continued...)

Hermione's eyes widened and Draco smirked. _Well, Granger, how are you going to get out of this one?_ he mused. Draco felt a sadistic glee at the pallor the girl had taken on. "Mind if we talk to you for a minute, Hermione?" James asked. His hazel eyes were cold and Hermione looked at Draco for help.  
  
"I think James wants to talk to you, darling," Draco said, nudging the brunette off of his bed. He frowned in thought, how had she ended up sitting on his bed? Hermione gave him a glare that would have killed a lesser man, or at least sent him home crying for his mother. Although, Draco was quite frankly terrified of the gropings he was certain to receive at his mother's hand if he ran home crying to her. _How am I supposed to face my parents after they've wanted to make me their cuddle monkey?_ he wondered. _Well, I'll burn that bridge when I come to it. That is one of the Malfoy mottos, is it not: burning bridges when you come to them._ He turned his attention to the curly-haired girl that sent him an evil glare that would put a chill in the very bones of Voldemort.  
  
"I hate you," she hissed.  
  
"Now, now, dearest, don't say things like that. Who knows, I may just drop dead and then you'll feel so guilty for wishing me ill," Draco taunted, patting the girl's thigh in what could be conceived as a romantic gesture.  
  
"If you would just drop dead then I'd feel a whole lot better," Hermione said, prying his hand from her thigh. A smile crossed Sirius's face. _Trouble in paradise then?_ he wondered. Had he been a cartoon character, he would have a devil and an angel on either shoulder; the angel would be telling him that it's wrong to want to date your almost-friend's girlfriend, even if she was an ex; the devil would be telling him that he should go for it. But since he wasn't a cartoon character, the angel was nowhere to be seen and the devil was in full control.  
  
The brunette followed the four boys outside of the infirmary. "Er...what can I do for you boys?" Hermione's voice was strangely high as she looked at the four boys, all taller than she was. _I hate being short!_ she raged internally. While she planned her action, she examined the four boys.  
  
The shortest of the four was Peter who was barely a head taller than Hermione, chubby with mousy brown hair in a pudding bowl haircut and beady brown eyes. Remus was over a head taller than Hermione and wiry with shoulder-length sandy brown hair and blue eyes narrowed in distrust. James was about Draco's height and almost a carbon copy of Harry, thin with a shock of messy black hair and hazel eyes. Sirius was the tallest and buffest of the four, he looked like he could be a movie star with his shoulder-length black hair, well-tanned skin, and the mischievous gleam in his unfathomable black eyes even as he stared at her with something akin to anger.  
  
"You seem to know a lot about werewolves," Sirius stated, breaking the silence.  
  
Hermione arched a brow. "I told you, my tutor was a werewolf," she stated. "He was a really nice guy and he taught me about the Wolfsbane potion." Even though Hermione's voice was strong, she could tell that the Marauders didn't believe her.  
  
Peter's eyes narrowed. "How come you were looking at Remus?" he demanded.  
  
Hermione almost smirked at this. "Is there something wrong with me looking at Remus when I was talking about werewolves?" she asked, her eyes meeting the werewolf's. "Anything you want to tell me?"  
  
Remus glared at Peter. "No," he bit out.  
  
Hermione nodded. "My tutor, Professor...er...Professor--" Hermione stammered.  
  
"You don't remember your tutor's name?" James asked.  
  
"I haven't had him for a while," she said defensively. "Er...Professor Longbottom..."  
  
"Professor Longbottom?" Remus asked incredulously. "I know Frank; there haven't been any professors in his family. Let alone werewolf professors."  
  
"Oh...um..." Hermione said, she was about to say that Frank wasn't related to **her** Professor Longbottom, but she knew that Longbottom wasn't exactly a common name. "Professor Lockhart!"  
  
"Who?" James asked.  
  
"Professor Gilderoy Lockhart was my werewolf professor, he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. He got bitten by a werewolf when he had been in Romania working with Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback," she explained. "Professor Neville Longbottom was my Potions professor, a very, very, **very** distant relative of Frank Longbottom." _Yeah, about nineteen years distant..._ she mused. "His cousin's aunt's son's son."  
  
She could tell that they were trying to figure out that she had just gave a long-winded explanation that Frank's son was her Potions master and continued on before they could understand her. "He was an expert in Herbology and became a Potions teacher after his parents were attacked by Dark wizards."  
  
"Probably my relatives," Sirius scowled darkly.  
  
"You wouldn't be wrong," Hermione stated, knowing very well that Neville's parents had been attacked by his cousin Bellatrix, her husband Rodolphus, and her brother-in-law Rastaban. "Well, Nev--Professor Longbottom is very gifted with the Wolfsbane Potion and he made it for...Professor Lockhart because they went to school together." Which wasn't **entirely** untrue, Lockhart **had** taught their second year Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "Professor Lockhart was one of my best teachers." Which was a downright lie -- he had been her most **attractive** teacher but not the best. Although, Hermione Granger had to admit that Professor Lupin had been a very close second. Although that wasn't much considering Professors Quirrel, the Fake Moody, and Umbridge. "Professor Lockhart taught me about all sorts of creatures -- like werewolves -- and was definitely one of the best teachers I ever had." She smiled at Remus. "That's all there is to it. Now if you don't mind, I have a sick boyfriend to attend to."  
  
Draco was sick all right, but it was the mental kind of sick. With that, she flounced back into the infirmary. James gnawed his bottom lip in thought. "Did she say that Professor Longbottom was Frank's cousin's aunt's son's son?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah," Remus said.  
  
"Frank's cousin's aunt would be his mother and his mother's son would be Frank. She just said that Frank's son was her tutor," the hazel-eyed boy stated.  
  
"She was lying," Peter replied.  
  
"It doesn't exactly take a genius to figure that out," Sirius said. "But why?"  
  
"She knows," Remus stated.  
  
"How could she know?" Peter asked.  
  
James's eyes widened. "Snape!" he cried.  
  
"What about Snivellus?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Who's the only person who knows what I am here aside from you three?" Remus asked.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Peter said.  
  
"Bloody hell, Peter, did you fall out of the stupid tree?" Sirius demanded.  
  
Peter scowled. "I happen to have an O in Muggle Studies!" he stated.  
  
"And A's and D's in everything else," Sirius replied. "And the only reason you have an O is 'cause Andromeda feels sorry for you."  
  
"Professor Tonks does **not** feel sorry for me," Peter defended.  
  
"It's a good thing that you only have one more year, Andromeda's retiring after her baby's born," Sirius stated.  
  
"Enough, you two," James sighed. "We need to find out exactly how much Hermione knows."  
  
"How do you intend on doing that?" Remus asked. A slow smile passed over James's lips.  
  
"You'll see..." he stated.


	20. Potential

**Author's Note:**  
I've had this part done for a while, but I was hoping for the chance to talk it over with my beta. I haven't been able to talk to her for a while now, and I'm currently going through a writer's block. I promise I'll get the parts out there as soon as I possibly can, so please, please be patient with me.

P.S. If you're wondering about this part, everything will be explained in due time.

* * *

Part 20:  
Potential  
(Sunday, September 4, 1977 – Continued...)

It was an ancient place. Anyone would be able to tell that easily. The walls were lined with torches filled with verdant flames. Every once in a while, the monotonous marble walls would open into great gaping mouths of infinite darkness formed by archways. In the center of the room was a raised dais and on it was a throne of red marble. In the weak light of the torches, the marble shimmered and shifted like a liquid...like blood.

In the throne sat a man with black hair, his temples were graying. He was a handsome, aristocratic man with long fingers. His eyes were a brownish red color like dried blood, cold as death, shining with madness and power. He was a sight to behold. Before him stood eight cloaked figures, and kneeling at his feet was the Dark Lord's ninth Death Eater.

The Dark Lord stood, and the one in front of him shivered. "Severus," the man said in a cold, wheezy voice. Two of his fingers lifted the young man's chin and forced Severus's obsidian gaze to meet his eyes.

"My Lord," Severus murmured.

"My servant Rastaban has told me a great deal about you, young Snape," the man spoke. "You are supposed to be quite powerful."

"I am, My Lord," Severus stated.

The Dark Lord's lips curled into a frigid smile. The piercing maroon eyes left Severus to settle on one of his followers. "Rastaban, come forth," the Dark Lord stated.

A figure stepped from the circle and removed his death's head mask, revealing shoulder-length black hair, a chiseled face, olive skin, and dark brown eyes. "My Lord," Rastaban Lestrange murmured, nodding his head at the Dark Lord.

"Interesting disguise," the Dark Lord stated. "I always knew it would be useful to have a Metamorphmagus as a follower. What is the name you go by at Hogwarts?"

"Damian Faust," Rastaban stated.

"Ah, yes, Damian Faust," the Dark Lord answered. "Do you stand for Severus?"

"I stand, My Lord," Rastaban nodded.

"Do any others stand?" the Dark Lord said.

"I stand, My Lord," a second voice came and a second man stepped forward. He pulled back his hood, revealing brilliant platinum hair in a ponytail with cold and calculating gray eyes.

"Lucius," the Dark Lord murmured. "Do any others stand?"

"I stand," a third voice came.

"Rosier," the Dark Lord spoke. Evan Rosier gave Severus a smile.

"'Salright, old chum, the fun's just beginning," the brown-haired young man said in a Cockney accent.

The Dark Lord silenced Rosier with a glare. "Do any others stand?" he demanded.

"I stand, My Lord," a fourth voice came. Preston Wilkes nodded toward Severus, nervously tucking a strand of his honey-colored hair behind an ear.

"Do any others stand?" the Dark Lord asked.

"I stand," a fifth voice came. A slight figure stepped forward, and removed the death's head mask. Heavy-lidded acid-green eyes met the Dark Lord's. Long black hair framed a pale, angelic, aristocratic face with a coldness that Severus had only seen in the Dark Lord. The seventeen-year-old knew the Black family characteristics by heart and the Dark Lord didn't even need to say the woman's name for Severus to know who she was. She was Bellatrix Black-Lestrange, Narcissa's older sister.

"Bella," the Dark Lord's thin lips formed into a cold smile as he examined the heavy-lidded woman.

"Five stand for you, Severus," the Dark Lord stated, his tone put a chill into Severus's spine and he tore his gaze from Bellatrix. "Five of my loyal Knights of Walpurgis believe that you should become one of us, a Death Eater." He began to circle the sallow-skinned youth. _Like a vulture,_ Severus mused. "If you turn against me, your life is forfeit."

Severus swallowed hard, his dark eyes darting toward the gaping arches surrounding the room, searching for a way out. The Dark Lord placed his hand on Severus's forehead. "_Legilimens,_" he murmured. Visions clouded Severus's sight. He saw himself stepping between his parents as they fought and his father performing the Cruciatius Curse on him for his trouble, zapping flies off the ceiling of his bedroom to try and block out their yelling, being suspended in midair by Potter, Hermione de Lioncourt.

Severus fought the Dark Lord's Imperius Curse, determined not to let him any deeper. "Do not fight me, Severus." Severus broke the link and the Dark Lord seemed amused. "Very well. You may stand."

Severus stood up shakily. "Your left arm," the Dark Lord stated. Severus pulled up the sleeve of his robe, revealing the pallid skin of his arm. The Dark Lord placed his wand to the flesh of Severus's forearm. "_Morsmordre_." A coldness unlike any that Severus had felt before seeped into his arm before becoming a burn, it was as if the Dark Lord had put a hot poker to his arm. Severus gritted his teeth, determined not to scream at the intense pain. Soon, the Dark Lord removed his wand from Severus's arm.

Severus stared at the red mark on his arm: a snake slithering from a skull's mouth. He had now become a Death Eater. His arm still had twinges of pain but Severus bowed at his new master. "My Lord," he murmured. The Death Eaters: Igor Karakoff, Lucius Malfoy, Rastaban Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange, Evan Rosier, Daniel Travers, and Preston Wilkes applauded the newest member.

The Dark Lord extended a hand toward Rastaban. "Rastaban tells me that there is a girl attending Hogwarts with much potential to be a powerful Knight," the Dark Lord stated. "Do you know this girl, Severus?"

A flash of the honey-haired girl in question popped into mind. "Hermione de Lioncourt, Slytherin. She just transferred from Agnitio Academy of Magic, My Lord," Severus stated.

"And she can produce a Paladin," Rastaban added.

"A Paladin, you say?" The Dark Lord smirked. "Hermione de Lioncourt...Hermione of the lion's heart, interesting. A Slytherin with the heart of a lion," he said.

"Are you certain that she is good enough, My Lord? She's dating a Gryffindor," Lucius stated.

"This does not matter," the Dark Lord stated. "I want all those with connections to Hogwarts to keep an eye on this girl. She has great potential."

His cold eyes examined Lucius, annoyed at Lucius's House loyalty. Trivial things such as one's House did not matter in the great scheme of things. Having followers from Gryffindor was a great asset to the Dark Lord. It was almost expected of the ambitious Slytherin, and possibly from the intelligent Ravenclaw...but who would ever expect a loyal Hufflepuff or a brave Gryffindor to follow Lord Voldemort?

And, after all, there had once been a time when the Sorting Hat had been torn between assigning a young Tom Marvolo Riddle to Slytherin or to Gryffindor, and Lord Voldemort had chosen well. Being a Slytherin had tried him in ways that being a Gryffindor could never have. He had proven himself...not as a piteous half-blood, but as a true wizard.

* * *

Hermione Granger chewed the end of a sugar quill as she looked over her journal. Her curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

_September 4, 1977_

_It's been a very long eventful day here in the past. I went to Dueling Club and I ended up fighting Sirius. Ron, I used _Infucatum Ostrinus _on him, and he spent most of the day purple. Then I ended up in a Patronus duel with Lucius Malfoy (he's always around here), and my otter became a Paladin. Apparently, a Paladin is a surge of power that makes your Patronus corporeal. My otter bit off the head of Lucius's cobra. It was interesting._

Draco's become really good friends with your father, Remus, Sirius, and Peter. And, for his trouble, he spent last night in the infirmary due to a fantastic Quaffle toss from Remus. It knocked Malfoy straight off his broom. I'm sure you would have enjoyed the sight, Ron. I hope to be back soon.

_Love,  
Hermione_


	21. O Oedipus, Oedipus, Unhappy Oedipus

Part 21:  
O Oedipus, Oedipus, Unhappy Oedipus  
(Monday, September 5, 1977)

"I'm thirsty," Draco said. With a long-suffering sigh, Madam Pomfrey brought her patient a glass of water. Draco scowled at the water and looked at Madam Pomfrey. "I wanted pumpkin juice." Madam Pomfrey closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and turned the water into pumpkin juice. Draco took a slight sip. "I want it warm."

He'd been asking the medi-witch to do the most menial tasks, having her cater to his every whim for the past hour. He hoped to finally change her mind so he could get out of the infirmary. It was strange. He'd been far less injured when he'd practically demanded that Madam Pomfrey keep him in the infirmary after being attacked by that bloody hippogriff. For some reason, he liked it better back in time. Maybe because **Harry** wasn't soaking up all of Draco's rightful attention. Maybe it was because, for once in his life, he actually had someone to hang out with who had something more to say than the occasional grunt. Imagine that, him Draco Malfoy, enjoying his time with James Potter and his little gang.

"Get out," Madam Pomfrey said through clenched teeth. Her voice was dead calm and the words were so quiet that Draco could barely hear them. "You're healed well enough."

"What?" he asked, hoping that he had heard what he had thought he heard.

"Out! Out! Out!" Madam Pomfrey screamed. "**GET OUT!**" Her face was mottled and purple with rage. Her arms flailed and she looked like she was about to have a stroke.

Draco didn't waste another moment. He made his escape, breathing in the sweet smell of freedom which actually smelled a great deal like musty old castle. He leaned against the stone wall, savoring the cool roughness against his back but mostly he savored the fact that he'd finally gotten out of the infirmary. His eyes must have closed because when he opened them again, he wasn't alone in the formerly-deserted hallway.

In front of him stood a beautiful blond woman who gave him a sexy smile. Normally, this would be a very welcome gesture but this was as far from a normal event as it was humanly possible. For the beautiful blond woman who gave him a sexy smile was none other than Narcissa Black, Draco's future mother. Draco's stomach dropped as she looked like she was about to devour him.

**_HELP!_** his mind screamed as his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. He quickly looked to his left and to his right. In his joy of freedom, he had neglected to notice that he was in a dead end and his **mother** blocked his only route of escape. "Hiya, tiger," Narcissa purred. Her tone of voice made him feel dirty. "I don't think we've met before but I'm Narcissa Black."

"Oh, actually I do think we've met before," Draco said, his voice was abnormally high and his words came out in a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried to disappear into the wall. Of all the bloody walls at Hogwarts, he just **had** to find one that didn't have a secret passageway. "Anyway, it was nice seeing you again, um, Miss Black."

"Please, call me 'Cissy,'" Narcissa said with that same purring tone. Draco pushed back a shudder as she mentioned her pet name. He made a move to leave but Narcissa only moved closer, her lips almost close enough to kiss.

The teenager jerked back hard, whacking his head on a stone. "Bloody hell!" he cried, rubbing his now-aching head. A spill of curses spurted from his mouth as he felt the bump and, of course, he just happened to piss off the only person who could fix his head.

Narcissa arched a brow and examined him speculatively. "There's a Halloween dance, you're going to be my date," she stated.

Draco stared at her. "I'd love to. Really, I would but I can't. I've got a date already," he said, forcing a smile.

"Oh, really, who?" she asked.

"My girlfriend, Hermione, you see she's really quite jealous so I can't date anyone else. Ever," Draco babbled. _Thank God for Hermione!_ he thought. A thought he would never have again any time soon.

"Jealous is she?" Narcissa purred, a glint entering her eyes as she examined Draco as a predator would examine prey. "Maybe we should give her something to be jealous about, hmmm?" Draco's eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"No, no, you wouldn't want to see her jealous," Draco squeaked as he narrowly evaded his mother's attempt at seduction. She had moved to kiss him and he had side-stepped causing the blonde to kiss the wall instead. He tried to compose himself but failed miserably as he stared at his mother, who looked rather annoyed.

"She's not going with you," Narcissa said.

"Of course she's going with me," Draco managed, trying to think of some sort of escape spell.

"No. She's going with Severus Snape," Narcissa stated.

He chuckled nervously as that option was pulled away. _Damn you, Granger!_ Draco thought. "How could I have forgotten? See, we -- Hermione and I -- we're on a break! We talked about this yesterday but it must have slipped my mind in all the concussion. And, well, I'm not going with Hermione after all! I'm going with--with, um..."

"You **forgot** who you're going to the dance with?" Narcissa asked with a touch of anger in her voice.

He quickly made a run through all the girls he could think of but unfortunately he didn't know the names of anyone in this time period except... "Lily! Yes, yes, I'm going with Lily P--Evans." Narcissa looked positively enraged. "So I'd better go and, um, talk to Lily. We're dating now, you know."

Draco managed to get past his mother without being groped and thanked Merlin for his luck. But as he neared the Great Hall, he realized he'd just created a new problem for himself. He had just told **his** mother that he was dating his **arch-nemesis's** mother. His only hope now lay with Professor Flaherty and the possibility of leaving this time before the Halloween Masque. But something told him that it wasn't going to happen. Whatever had occurred over his potion with Hermione was an once-in-a-lifetime sort of mishap. Maybe the only hope would be to tell his future-self not to mess up the potion? But if he told his future-self not to mess up the potion, but if he didn't mess up the potion, how could he tell his future-self **not** to mess-up the potion? He head was starting to hurt and it wasn't entirely because of the knocking it had taken on the stone wall earlier.

Well, if he did date Lily maybe Harry wouldn't be born. That was a somewhat bright spot in the otherwise bleak future that lay ahead of him. But a strange emotion rose inside him, one that he was entirely unfamiliar with. He felt...strange. If he dated Lily then James would be upset and upsetting James made him feel...bad. Why on earth would he feel bad about stealing someone else's bird? Was this strange emotion guilt? He banged his head on the wall by the doors to the Great Hall and, as he did it, he realized that it was, indeed, a very stupid thing to do. It only hurt his head more. With a grunt, he cradled his now-aching forehead as the dull throbbing on the back of his head increased. Yes, it was a very, very stupid thing to do.

He squared his shoulders and entered the Great Hall. Girls at the Gryffindor table looked up at him, giggled, and then proceeded to talk animatedly between themselves while stealing occasional looks at the Gryffindor Keeper. He walked through the room with a sinking feeling in his gut. Every move felt heavy and he darted a look back at the door to the Great Hall. All apprehension left him as he saw his very-enraged mother entering the room. He plopped down at the table and wrapped an arm around Lily's shoulder. Lily looked at him. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked in a hiss.

"Giggle like I said something funny. No, not just **something** funny, like it was the funniest thing you ever heard." At her blank look. "Just work with me here," he whispered. "It will all be explained in time."

"Just so you know, I'm taking a lot on faith here," she said. She giggled musically and Narcissa sent Lily an _Avada Kedavra_ glare. Lily turned to face Draco. "You gonna explain yourself?"

Draco cleared his throat and tried another phrase. "So, Lily, got a date to the Halloween Masque?" he asked.

"No," she said with a little smile.

"Wanna go with me?" he asked.

"You're a year younger than me," she said, cutting up her sausage patty.

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" he asked.

"No," Lily said, her smile widening.

"When's your birthday?" he asked.

"August thirty-first," Lily answered.

"What year?" he asked.

"1960," Lily replied.

"Barely made the cut, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah. What does this have to do with anything?" Lily said.

"My birthday's June fifth. You're only..." he started. His brow wrinkled as he tried to calculate how much older Lily was if he had been born in 1961. "Ten months older than I am."

"Actually, nine months and four days," she replied.

"Exactly. Nine months and four days older than I am," he replied. "C'mon, Lil, I promise, we'll have loads of fun."

Lily chuckled. "What do you really want?"

"Want? What could I possibly want?" he asked nervously.

"You haven't even **looked** at me and now you want to go to the dance?" she asked. "What's the deal?"

Draco swallowed hard. He'd been found out. "You, uh, see that angry-looking blond girl?" he asked.

"Narcissa Black?" she asked.

"Um, well, I told, uh, Narcissa that we were...dating..." Draco said.

"You told her **what**!" Lily cried.

"Shhh, keep your voice down," Draco hissed. "She wasn't taking a hint..."

"What was that hint?" Lily asked, eyes narrowed with anger.

"That I wouldn't date her if she was the last woman on earth," he said.

"So you decided to tell her that **I** was your girlfriend?" she inquired.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," he replied.

"Well, what's your real girlfriend going to say?" Lily asked.

"My...real girlfriend?" Draco asked.

"Hermione," Lily replied.

"Oh, yeah, Hermione. Well, we broke up," he said.

"Why?" Lily asked.

"Um, well, that's actually a really long story..." he trailed off. "Please, help me out." Draco's eyes widened, had he really just begged a girl to date him? He was a **Malfoy**! Malfoys **never** had to beg, women threw themselves at Malfoys. Well, most Malfoys weren't being chased by their mothers in a romantic way.

"You know, it's nice for a guy to ask before he tells everyone that he's dating a girl," Lily said.

"I thought I just did!" Draco cried.

Lily grinned at him. "No. You just asked me to the dance. There's a difference between dancing and dating," she replied.

Draco let out a long-suffering sigh and wondered if this was all really worth it. He thought of his mother and realized that, yeah, it was all very worth it. "Lily, will you date me?" he asked.

"Let me get back to you on that," she said cheekily.

"Lily, I'm begging here! Narcissa's really..."

"Scary?"

"Oh, yeah."

Lily paused, mulling it over. "Okay," she said. "I'll date you."

"Thank you, Lily," he said. "You're a lifesaver."

* * *

James Potter sat a few seats away and turned to see Draco making the moves on **his** woman. Okay, so she wasn't **his** in as many words, but he still **couldn't** believe that Draco, who **knew** he liked Lily, would be putting the moves on her. Okay, so he hadn't exactly **told** Draco that he was into Lily but he'd made it abundantly clear. He leaned forward a bit but the Great Hall was too crowded to hear their conversation. He leaned back some but only managed to fall on his butt. A few people giggled but all laughter stopped as the Quidditch captain glared at them. He picked himself off, brushing off. He sat down, nursing his bruised ego. 

How could he have been so **stupid**? He had taken this boy under his wing and this was how he was repaid? His unofficial girlfriend was now even more unofficially his. All because of Draco Aquilus. Maybe he should have listened to Padfoot and Moony? Wormtail was absolutely useless when it came to forming an opinion. Why had he even wanted to hang out with him? Maybe because, in a way, Draco reminded James of himself? Why? That was a good question. He glared sullenly at the blonde and redhead talking and had another idea.

Maybe Draco wasn't putting the moves on Lily? Maybe he was trying to help? No, probably not. Someone **really** needed to invent a way to overhear conversations.

* * *

The bell rang for first period and Draco slid off the bench feeling much better, at least he could get his **mother** off his back for a while. He smiled thankfully at Lily and she returned his smile, gathering her books for first period. Draco's head had finally stopped hurting and he slid off the bench to head for class. He left the Great Hall, sighing with relief. 

"So what was that about?" James asked.

"What about?" Draco inquired.

"You and Lily."

"Oh, I asked her to the dance," Draco said. That strange emotion welled up again, the **guilt**. Imagine that, a **Malfoy** guilty. "I need to talk to you about that. I think I can help you get her."

"Get her, uh, why would I want to get her?" James stammered.

Draco draped his arm around James's shoulder in a friendly way. "See the thing about it is this..."


	22. The Third Mission

Part 22:  
The Third Mission  
(Monday, September 5, 1977 - Continued...)

After a rather blissful day without Potions, Hermione and Draco worked in silence over their homework from that morning's Advanced Arithmancy class. They were interrupted as the head common room's door banged open. "I can't believe this!" Lily Evans proclaimed as she stormed into the head common room. Startled, Hermione dropped her rather large Arithmancy book on Draco's foot. The blonde grabbed his foot, muttering an oath under his breath.

Lily looked mortified as Hermione cautiously picked up her book and checked it over for damages. "Oh, sorry," Lily said meekly as she slumped into the scarlet couch.

"Good, it's fine," the brunette stated.

"Your bloody book is all you're worried about?" Draco demanded.

"Yep," Hermione stated, placing the book on the table. "If the rest of you is as hard as your head, then you should be fine." Her eyes widened as Draco gave her a lascivious grin. "That did **not** come out right."

Hermione blushed bright red and Draco turned to Lily. "Is there a reason why you decided it would be fun to get my foot broken?" he inquired.

"Don't be such a baby," the Muggle-born Slytherin said, leafing through her book to find the page she was on.

"It's a heavy book!" Draco insisted as he turned his gaze to Lily. "Well?"

"Well what?" Lily asked, retrieving her books from her bag.

"What's your problem?" the blonde asked.

"Severus Snape," Lily spat, "is my problem. Professor Flaherty assigned me to partner with Severus Snape on our class project. It's worth **half** our final grade."

"Well, that's good," Hermione said, examining the complicated formula on her book. She stopped and furrowed her brow. Had she really just told a Muggle-born Gryffindor that working with a Slytherin (not just any Slytherin, but the future Slytherin Head of House) was a "good" thing? Unbelievable! "He **is** good at Potions."

"She has a point there. Old Sev is remarkable at Potions," Draco stated with a hint of a smirk.

Hermione glared at him. "So what's the assignment?" she inquired.

"To look up and create a potion not taught in class," Lily said.

"Veritaserum is an interesting concoction," Draco said, leafing through his Arithmancy book.

"And a Ministry-controlled potion," Lily stated.

"You're so good at Potions, you should know that," Hermione shot at Draco. "A friendship potion could be useful. In fact, we were working on a memory-sharing potion before we came here." She glared at Draco. "Just don't let your idiot partner double the quotient of wolfbane and hellebore when mixing it with thistledown and thyme."

Lily laughed. "Of course not, how thick can you get?" Lily said. "It makes the potion unstable. I've even heard of someone who got sent back in time because of it."

Both Hermione and Draco looked at Lily. "What happened?" they both demanded.

Lily frowned at their sudden interest. "She ended up in the Crusades and was burnt at the stake as a witch, ironically enough. Unfortunately, she didn't know the Flame Freezing Charm. Messy death that."

"Oh..." Hermione said, frowning. "Well, a friendship potion could be useful."

"If we could work together long enough to finish the project without killing one another," the redhead answered. "Severus is really into the Dark Arts. I heard he even knows the Killing Curse." She swallowed hard. "I'd hate to die by that. Alive one second and dead the next." The redhead shuddered.

Hermione's stomach dropped to her knees at Lily's off-hand comment. Lily **would** die by the Killing Curse. There was a pregnant pause in which Hermione paled considerably. "Well anyway, I'd be more worried about **your** project. You have to do this assignment, also."

"But we're only sixth years," Hermione said, grateful at the change of topic.

"Flaherty makes **all** years do it," Lily answered.

"Well...we get to choose are partners, right?" Draco asked.

"I'm sure he'll put you and Hermione together. He just **loves** teaming up opposing Houses. A couple years back, he put Adira Lohman -- a Slytherin -- and Philip Patil -- a Hufflepuff -- together. They did an Invictus Potion. They're getting married April twenty-eighth." Lily paused thoughtfully. "Actually, Professor Flaherty is good at improving inter-House relations."

Hermione wondered if Philip and Adira Patil were Padma and Parvati's parents. James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus chose that moment to enter the room. "Draco, Quidditch practice at five, remember? Better get ready."

"Bloody hell," Draco said, shutting his textbook. Draco gave James a look, James paled and swallowed hard.

James smiled at Lily, pouring on all of the cool and suave he possessed into the simple gesture. "So are you going to cheer us on Friday when we kick Slytherin's ass?" At this, Draco rubbed his forehead and winced.

Lily sniffed in distaste. "Actually, I was planning to cheer for Slytherin. They may be jerks, but at least, **they** don't deny it..." Lily stated. She gathered her books and pushed past the Marauders.

James watched the redhead go, longing passing over his face. "Ouch," Sirius said. "That must have been painful..."

"Shut up, Sirius," Draco, James, and Remus said in unison. The four Marauders and Draco left the room.

Hermione Granger watched them leave. It was always like this for Slytherins, wasn't it? With a slight frown, she remembered third year's run for the Quidditch Cup. Three-fourths of the school had turned up in Gryffindor colors. Sure, the Slytherins (namely Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle) had pulled a mean trick on Harry, but still...Malfoy wasn't that exceedingly bad when you got to know him...

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Did she just think that of Draco "I'm Better Than You Because I'm a Rich Pureblood" Malfoy? She **had**! **And** she had actually felt sorry for the Slytherins. The Muggle-born's eyes narrowed in thought. She **had** to talk to Professor Flaherty before things got too much weirder...

* * *

Meanwhile, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James led Draco to the Quidditch Pitch. It was at this moment that Draco realized that there hadn't been a Quidditch practice planned for that night. He examined the Marauders with curiosity under the silvery light cast from the nearly-full moon above them. "I guess you're wondering what we're doing here," James said.

"Well, yeah, actually," Draco said, quirking a brow.

"It's time for your third task," Sirius said with a smirk.

"Oh, goody," Draco said drolly. "What now?" There was a cockiness in his demeanor that was not unlike Sirius's. Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance.

Sirius smirked, a glint entering his eyes. "You're going to steal a little trinket," the dark-haired youth stated.

Draco arched a brow as he examined Sirius. "A trinket?" he asked.

"Not just any trinket: the House Cup," Remus said, examining his nails.

Draco's pale, pointed face grew even paler, his silver eyes examining Sirius. He cleared his throat and regained his composure before he asked his next question even though he was pretty certain that he knew the answer. "So, where is it?"

Sirius gave Draco a Cheshire cat grin. "In the Slytherin dungeons," Sirius said.

"So, I have to find the dungeons, get into the dungeons, get past the safeguards that are around the House Cup, and bring it to you?" Draco asked. Sirius nodded with a hint of a smirk on his full lips. "Piece of cake."

Sirius looked shocked at the younger boy's bravado and cockiness. He quickly regained his composure. "Your girl -- I mean, your **ex**-girlfriend -- doesn't know where the Slytherin dungeons are."

Draco gave Sirius a thin-lipped smile that for some reason reminded Sirius of his father. It was that creepy "I know something you don't know" smile that always meant that Sirius should run. Inwardly, the dark-haired teen shuddered at the uncanny resemblance. Of course, Draco **couldn't** be a Black. Blacks never went to Agnitio Academy. Almost every relative he could name were Slytherin graduates from Hogwarts. None of his relatives would lower themselves to enter a public magic academy like Agnitio; they might go for Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, but never Agnitio. Needless to say, the smile did put him a bit on edge.

"So where should I meet you with the cup?" he asked. James smirked at Draco's attitude; the more he got to know Draco, the more he got to like the confident youth. Remus looked a bit unsettled.

"Right here on the Pitch," Sirius said. "By midnight. You've got seven hours. Have fun."

Again, that thin-lipped smile that reminded Sirius so much of his father. "I will," was Draco's reply. With that, Draco made his way back to the castle.

Peter looked at the rest of the group curiously. "Does anyone else think there's something weird about Draco?" he asked.

"You're not the only one," Remus stated. "There is something definitely off about him."

* * *

Draco had one stop to make before he ventured on to the Slytherin dungeons. There was a cocky bounce to his step. If these tasks kept coming as easily as they have been, he'd be an Animagus in no time. He couldn't prevent himself from whistling. He entered the head common room still in high spirits. Hermione and Lily were conversing about the potion she should make with Severus. All chatter stopped as the strains of Draco's whistling came to them. Hermione couldn't prevent her jaw from dropping at Draco's good mood.

"Don't you look like the cat that swallowed the canary?" Hermione chided. Draco plopped down beside Hermione and haphazardly threw his arm around her shoulder. Hermione peeled his arm off her shoulder with distaste, letting it drop to his side. "We're not dating anymore, remember?" There was a brightness to her voice. She was still rather annoyed about how much he'd bothered her yesterday. But, mostly, she was annoyed at how much he'd annoyed her. After all these years of putting up with the Prince of Slytherin, why was she suddenly upset about Draco being the true ferret he was? Maybe it had something to do with that kiss.

_What kiss!? If you could call **that** a kiss,_ she thought with a scoff. _Of course, you could call that a **kiss**!_ that stupid traitorous voice in her head piped up. _Shut up, you,_ sane-Hermione came back. The voice stilled and Lily watched Draco and Hermione with amusement. "I'll just leave the two of you alone," she said with a bit of smile.

"Lily, don't," Hermione hissed.

"It's perfectly fine, go on ahead, Mione and I have some talking to do," he said. Lily took her books and retreated into the Head Girl's quarters.

"Don't **ever** call me that again," Hermione stated, scooting her chair further away from the one Draco now occupied.

"What? Mione," Draco said.

"Exactly, don't call me that," she said, slamming her book closed with a huff.

"Why not? Don't Potty and the Weasel call you that?" Draco asked.

"And you're not Ron and you're not Harry, need I remind you? You're not a friend and you're not an acquaintance, you're an **enemy** who has made the past five years of my life miserable," she said, shoving her books unceremoniously into her satchel.

"Four and a half," he replied.

Hermione looked at him. "Four years and ten months."

"Four years and ten months," he said quietly. There was a pause in which Draco's cocky demeanor returned. "Why, Mione, I didn't know you cared so much."

Hermione sighed huffily. "I **don't** care. And stop calling me that," she said with a sigh.

"Can't we call a truce?" Draco said. Hermione stared at him as if he was crazy.

"A truce, you and me?" she asked, the idea was so ludicrous she struggled not to burst into a fit of insane giggles.

"Look, we're stuck here for Merlin **knows** how long, we might as well establish a working relationship," he said.

"What do you want?" she asked.

_Damn, am I really **that** bad at this?_ he mused. "I need your help."

"You need my help," she said slowly. "I'm not doing your homework."

Draco scoffed. "You'd think I'd **let** you do my homework?" he asked. "I need to know the password to the Slytherin dungeons."

"Sinister," Hermione said. "Why?"

"I have a little mission," he said.

"Does this have anything to do with the kitchens?" she asked. "Or the Quidditch tryouts?"

Draco scoffed a little too quickly. "Of **course** not, why would you think that?" he said, his voice a little too bright.

"It has everything to do with it," she surmised. "I'm going with you."

"What? Why?" he asked.

"You're acting incredibly strange. Stranger than usual, I might add," Hermione said. "And I want to know exactly what's going on."

Draco scowled. "Fine then," he said.

* * *

"You think he stands a chance?" Peter asked, plucking some grass from the pitch, distractedly.

"Not at all," Sirius stated proudly. He, too, sat on the Pitch reclining on his arms. James stared at the stars, not really paying attention to the conversation surrounding him.

Remus didn't look so certain. He had to think of something pretty important to keep his secret. For the second time in the nearly seven years he'd known the three other Marauders, he was truly upset with them. Sure, it was less-than-stellar to be an unlicensed Animagus but it was much worse being a werewolf. The less people who knew about the lycanthropy, the better chance he stood of having a semblance of a normal life. Not that a normal life was any sort of possibility for him, it was a nice dream. He had to come up with something good for the final task, something that Draco had no chance with.

"Are we going to watch him on the map?" Peter asked.

"That's actually a good idea," Sirius said.

"We can't," James said. "Draco has the map."

"He can find Slytherin House," Remus said, clenching his jaw.

"He has to get by the Dark Knight first; the Dark Knight only lets in Slytherins," Sirius said. "Draco is **not** a Slytherin."

"Yeah, but his **girlfriend** is," Remus said.

"**Ex**-girlfriend, we mustn't forget that 'ex,' Moony, my boy," Sirius said.

James shook his head. "Give it up, Padfoot," he said.

"Oh, like **you're** any better when it comes to Lily," Sirius stated. "Pictures of Lily made my life so wonderful / Pictures of Lily helped me sleep at night/ Pictures of Lily solved my childhood problems/ Pictures of Lily helped me feel alright."

"Is that a Beatles' song?" James asked.

Peter sighed and shook his head. "Of course not. The Who," he said. "And it's about a pin-up girl who died in 1929."

"Oh," James said.

"Why?" Sirius asked.

"No reason, just curious," James said, paling slightly.

* * *

For the second time, Draco and Hermione were hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. This time, the two managed to resist the ever-present urge to fight each other. Instead they quietly made their way to the dark, dank dungeons. Draco stopped them in front of a painting of a pale, dark-haired man in deep-red armor that looked black. The man gave her the chills. He seemed to see right through her which was ridiculous because, hey, Invisibility Cloak but still his dark gaze was unsettling. "Sir Valmont du Morte, the Dark Knight." Hermione let out a nervous giggle at Draco's comment. "What?"

"There's a comic book -- never mind. Let's get this over with," she said.

The painting's eyes narrowed. "Show yourself," Sir Valmont growled.

"Sinister," Draco stated.

"Not a Slytherin, begone intruder," Sir Valmont growled. The painting's reaction made Hermione realize how Ron and Harry had gotten into the Slytherin dungeons in second year. The painting could **see** that they looked like Slytherins but not **sense** that they were actually Gryffindors. This also made Hermione wonder about the Fat Lady. Could **she** sense that someone wasn't a Gryffindor? She'd let Sirius inside the Gryffindor Tower but he **had** been a Gryffindor. Hermione's train of thought was derailed when Draco hissed at her.

"I thought you said that 'sinister' was the password," Draco hissed.

"It is," she said. Slowly, she slid out from under the cloak, Sir Valmont examined her curiously.

"Miss de Lioncourt, password," he said, sizing her up. Unconsciously, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest; he had that sliminess like Dolohov.

"Sinister," she said, her voice stronger than she felt. The portrait opened, revealing the stairs down to the Slytherin common room. Slowly, Hermione took the stairs into the mouth of hell, Draco following still hidden under James's Invisibility Cloak.

Hermione wasn't sure what she had been expecting when she entered the Slytherin common room but she wasn't disappointed. The common room was much danker and darker than the comfortable Gryffindor common room or the Head common room. The furniture consisted of ebony and emerald velvet upholstery. The intricately-carved stone fireplace held a raging fire but its warmth didn't sap the cool moisture from the air. The walls were lined with bookcases full of ancient tomes except for a spot opposite the fire where a silver column carved with snakes bearing emerald eyes stood. Atop the column was a big, shiny trophy that Hermione recognized as the House Cup. Covering the Cup was a glass case inscribed with runes that were only visible if the light hit them in a specific way.

Under the Invisibility Cloak, Draco grinned with triumph, moving toward the column. Hermione examined the books with interest, mostly Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts mixed in with books of all subjects except Muggle Studies. She took one of the Potions books and thumbed through it as Draco's hands slid over the glass case protecting the House Cup. Immediately, shots of electricity slammed through him as the nearly-invisible runes began to glow an eerie green color. He struggled to pull his hands free but they were stuck.

Hermione turned to see the Invisibility Cloak slip from Draco's shoulders. Pain flashed on his face. The brown-haired girl dropped the tome and raced over. Her eyes widened as she read the runes flashing on the glass case. She jerked his hands free of the glass case and winced as she saw the burns on his hands. "What're you doing!?" Hermione hissed.

"Getting the House Cup," Draco said.

Hermione stared at him. "For what reason?" she demanded.

"I'll tell you later," he said. "I just need to get it."

The brunette sighed. "You will," she said, a threatening tone in her voice. She looked back at the Cup. "You just **grabbed** something in Slytherin House?"

"Well, yeah..." Draco said. "It lets Slytherins pick it up or, well, it did."

"You're **not** a Slytherin, need I remind you? And you didn't even **think** to check for jinxes?" she asked in disbelief.

"Well, no..." he replied, realizing just how stupid he had been. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. "So are you going to help me?"

"Fine," she stated. "Did you do a revelation spell?"

"A...what?" Draco asked.

"Honestly, haven't you **read** your books?" she asked. She shook her brown curls and took out her wand. With a motion, she said, "_Ostendo._" Runes ran over the Cup's surface, blindingly bright. Hermione nodded, seeming to understand what they meant. She said a few words under her breath that Draco couldn't make out and the runes dulled before sinking back into the Cup's surface. "It's perfectly safe to touch now." Carefully, Draco reached out, his muscles tense, his eyes closed. "Honestly." She took the Cup from the pedestal and handed it to Draco.

* * *

"What do you guys know about Polyjuice Potion?" James asked suddenly. Remus and Sirius looked at James with curiosity at his sudden comment.

"What about Polyjuice Potion," Remus asked warily.

"Well, I'm thinking about making it for my project," James stated, swallowing hard.

"It changes your appearance," Sirius said. "By adding a bit of whoever you're going to change into." Remus, James, and Peter stared at Sirius. "What? I **do** know some things."

"You know something!?" James gasped. "Everyone remember this moment! It will go down in history! The day that Padfoot actually **knew** something."

Remus, Peter, and James chuckled and Sirius looked at the three sullenly. "Oh, right, laugh it up, blokes."

"So who are you going to work with?" Remus asked. "I'm working with Delilah Prognose."

"Antonin Dolohov," James said, making a face.

"I pity you," Sirius said.

* * *

Draco grinned triumphantly at the Cup he now held. "Let's get out of here."

"We can't just **leave**," Hermione said. "Don't you think someone will notice? It's the **House Cup**, after all. And that..." she shuddered "...painting saw us enter."

"Well, what do you propose we do then?" Draco asked, arching his brows.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You owe me," she stated simply. "_Exigo Carbo._" In her hand a copy of the House Cup appeared. "It's like a holograph, but it should stand up to scrutiny until you replace it." She set the two-dimensional Cup onto the pedestal and replaced the cover.

"Now. We can leave." Draco was grudgingly impressed. She had saved him and something told him that it wasn't something that she would soon let him forget. "Fine," he said with a bit of a scowl. Hermione grinned at him and the two disappeared under the Invisibility Cloak. Once out of the Slytherin dungeons, Hermione asked. "Why do you need the Cup?"

"I'm going to be a Marauder," he said.

"You're...going to be...a Marauder?" the brunette asked. "Why do you **want** to become a Marauder?"

"I like hanging out with them, even if Sirius is a prick and Peter's not right in the head," Draco admitted. She didn't have a smart comment to add. He couldn't sound selfless, it wasn't right. "Plus, I want to be an Animagus."

"You make such a **lovely** ferret," she said. "So, you did know that Sirius was following us last year."

"Of course, Father told me."

"If you become an Animagus, you're going to teach me."

* * *

"So...what's a good Beatles' song?" James asked. His three friends looked at him curiously.

"What's with the sudden obsession with the Beatles?" Sirius asked.

"Well, Lily likes the Beatles..." James said.

"Please tell me that you are not going to sing to her," Remus said.

"I'm sure Prongs has a **lovely** singing voice, after all he **is** a eunuch," Sirius stated and James smacked him in the back of his head. "Ow."

"Well, 'Something' is a good song," Peter said. "Even though it was written about Patti Boyd who left George for Eric Clapton a couple months ago..." He trailed off at the incredulous looks his friends sent him.

"Depends on the mood you're going for. 'In My Life' is a good one," Sirius put in.

"You could always go for something classic like 'I Want to Hold Your Hand,'" Remus suggested.

A blonde appeared causing the four Marauders to jump. They each sighed with relief when they realized it was just Draco. Remus frowned; he was sure he saw a hint of someone behind Draco but shook it off. Draco casually tossed the House Cup to Sirius. "How do we know it's the real thing?" Sirius asked.

"_Ostendo,_" Remus said. The Cup glowed with runes and Sirius yelped, tossing the Cup to the pitch as the markings burned his hands. Draco watched the spell, impressed. He really needed to learn that one. "You deactivated the spells? How?"

"That's my little secret," he said, plopping down beside James. "So, what now?"

"Well, I guess you can learn our nicknames then," James said, impressed. "Prongs. That's Padfoot." He nodded toward Sirius. "Wormtail." Peter grinned. "And Moony." Remus positively glared at Draco.

"When do I get my nickname?" he asked.

"**If** you prove yourself," Remus growled.

"'**If**?' I already have, mate," Draco said with a smirk.

"Don't be so sure," Remus said. "You still have to go through me."

Draco grinned at the werewolf. James broke up the tense moment. "So, Draco, that thing we were talking about, when do we start?" he asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Draco answered, standing up and dusting off his trousers. "But I'd better get to bed." With a sweeping gesture, he disappeared once more under the Invisibility Cloak. This time, Remus was sure he'd seen a peek of someone.

"What was that all about?" Peter asked.

* * *

Draco and Hermione silently made their way to the Head Tower. Once safely ensconced behind the portrait of the future Mr. and Mrs. Potter and in the head common room, Hermione turned on Draco. "Why do you always have to provoke people?" she demanded.

"Because it's what I'm good at," he said with a smirk.

"**Because** you're a jerk," she corrected.

Draco mulled over her comment for a second. "Well, yeah, that too." With that, he cast the Invisibility Cloak of off them, wincing slightly.

"Let me see your hands," Hermione ordered.

"What?" Draco questioned.

"Give me your hands," she said. "I saw the burns. I want to see how bad they are."

Ever-so-reluctantly, Draco gave Hermione his hands palm-up. Gently, Hermione examined them. They were angry and red, blistered with what looked like the runes etched into his skin. Hermione winced. "I'll be right back."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, I can't wait," he muttered as Hermione went into the Head Girl's room and returned with a Muggle first aid kit. "What's that?"

"A first aid kit," she said. "I can't heal them instantly like Madam Pomfrey can, magical wounds and all -- not that Madam Pomfrey **would** heal you after kicking you out of the infirmary not even twenty-four hours ago -- but I **can** mostly get rid of them by morning. It'll take a little longer for them to heal completely. Magical wounds are funny that way." She pulled out some gauze and liberally coated the gauze with a paste.

Cautiously Hermione wrapped the gauze around his hands and Draco watched her tenderness with interest. "It's a mixture of aloe vera, witch hazel, and a healing spell," she said. At Draco's look, she continued: "I took some extra credit on healing herbs with Professor Sprout. It'll soothe and heal the burns."

"Is there anything you **haven't** taken extra credit in?" Draco asked.

Hermione thought about it as she bound his hands. "Potions and Divination," she replied.

She continued with his other hand, very carefully wrapping the gauze around his burns. "Be careful not to disturb the gauze, the mixture reaches full potency in about three hours." Now that she was finished, she realized that she was still holding his pale hand in her small, sun-kissed one. She realized even more that Draco wasn't exactly trying to disengage her hands. With another lingering moment, Hermione pulled away.

"Thanks," Draco said.

Hermione looked startled. "Oh, wow, is Draco Malfoy saying 'thanks'? I never thought this day would come." Draco smirked at her and headed into the Head Boy's quarters. Hermione stared after him with a hint of confusion. What had just happened?


	23. The Girl in Question

Part 23:  
The Girl in Question  
(Tuesday, September 6, 1977)

"Did you get it?" Draco asked, examining James as he entered the Head Boy's room.

"Lacewing flies, leeches, bicorn horn, knotgrass, fluxweed picked at the full moon, shredded boomslang skin," James said, depositing the ingredients in front of Draco as he said them. He sat down in front of Draco as the blonde began adding the ingredients.

"The flies need to be stewed for twenty-one days for maximum potency," Draco said.

"Where'd you learn this?" James asked.

"_Most Potente Potions,_" Draco answered.

"Oh, right, never did care much for Potions..."

Draco didn't reply. Instead, he did a double-check of _Most Potente Potions_, making sure that everything was in its proper amount and consistency. "You're certain you've got the proper ingredients?"

James stared at Draco. "Well, the little bottles had these little pieces of paper on them called 'labels.' And the **labels** had these things called 'words' and the **words** told me that they were the proper ingredients," James said deadpan. Draco gave James an irritated glare and made a triple-check.

After a half hour of Draco examining the book and quadruple-then-quintuple-then-sextuple-checking the ingredients to make **exactly** certain they were what they claimed to be. Draco even compared the ingredients' appearance to the images in an encyclopedia of Potions ingredients and, by this time, James was really annoyed. "For the love of Merlin!" James cried, dropping the lacewing flies into the stewing solution. Draco glared at James. "So, you're sure this will work?"

"Of course," Draco said. "It can fool anyone and, at the Halloween Masque, we can tell Lily the truth."

"What if she hates me?"

"Then you're out of luck," Draco said with a little smile.

"Oh, thanks..." James said. "You're a **load** of help."

"You want me to build up your ego uselessly. I'm not going to hold your hand and tell you that everything's going to work out right. You have to make Lily like you **by yourself**," Draco stated.

"Fair enough," James said. They stowed the ingredients and the stewing lacewing flies into a safe corner of the Head Boy's room out of everyone's view.

* * *

At breakfast, Hermione stared at her memory-sharing potion notes with a renewed vigor. She had to find out **how** to fix what had been done. She really didn't want to end up like the girl Lily had told her about. It would be way too confusing to actually **meet** Harry when he was -- would be born -- born. To be around when **she**, herself, was -- would be born -- was another thing she wondered about. She winced as she thought of all the possible things that could have changed in the four days she and Draco had lived in the past. Every word she said, every thing she did had an impact on the future. It was like a pebble being thrown into a still pond and the ripples spreading out to where they would never have gone. Guilt wracked her at the thought of all the things she had done that could have changed something.

Severus sat down beside her heavily and Hermione looked up from her pink-splattered notes. "Hello, Hermione," Severus said. The brunette frowned. Severus looked much paler than he had when they'd first met in the past.

"Are you okay, Severus?" she asked. "You look really pale."

Severus stared at the girl, amazed by the worry in her voice. "I'm fine. I guess I just caught a bit of something."

"Maybe you should go to Madame Pomfrey's?" Hermione suggested.

"I'll be fine," he replied. He looked at the pink substance coating her notes. "What happened?"

"Oh," Hermione said. With a quick _Scourgify_ the pink mess was gone. It was interesting that the only things that bore a hint of what had happened to Draco and her were the notes on the potion. "I'm not really sure."

Severus nodded. "You never answered my question," he said.

"I don't know what happened," Hermione repeated.

"Not that one. Do you want to go to the Halloween Masque with me?" he asked.

"I thought I answered that one," she mused.

"You didn't. You started talking about Narcissa," he said.

"Oh," Hermione said with a little blush. "Yes, Severus, I would love to go to the Halloween Masque with you." Severus gave her a smile, a warm friendly smile. It was unnerving to see the grin on her future professor's face.

"Good," he replied. She tucked the notes back into her satchel. Maybe they could wait, after all. At least, until the Halloween Masque.

"Lily told me about the, uh, project in Potions," Hermione said.

Severus scowled and glared moodily at his breakfast. "What about it?"

"Why do you dislike her so much? She's been really nice to me," Hermione said.

"She's a Mudblood," Severus said scathingly.

Hermione glared at him. "And what's so wrong with that? What makes a pureblood better than a half-blood or a Muggle-born, for that matter?" she exploded. "Why is blood so important? Lily is as good at magic as you are, if not better." She suddenly paled as she realized why she was so upset. She was tired of Draco and how he reacted because of her blood. Her eyes widened and she quickly left the Great Hall.

Severus stared after her. Hermione always seemed so mild-mannered and quiet and now this?

* * *

Sirius Black noticed Hermione's distress as she made her way out of the Great Hall. He turned to Remus. "I'll be right back," he said, standing up and following after.

"He is never going to give up, is he?" Peter inquired. Remus barely heard Peter's comment. He was too busy trying to figure out who had been helping Draco with his tasks. If he could prove that someone else had been helping, maybe he could end up getting James to reconsider. He suddenly had a realization, sent a look at the Slytherin table to find Snape sitting by himself and looking bewildered.

* * *

"Hermione! Wait," Sirius called. Hermione turned around to look at Sirius.

"I don't need this right now," Hermione muttered under her breath. And so he could hear her, "What is it?"

"What happened back there?" he asked.

"Severus and I got into a little discussion," she said.

"Oh, really?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, really," Hermione said.

"I could kill him for you, make it look like an accident," Sirius suggested. Hermione fought back the urge to smile.

"That's really not necessary," Hermione said. "It was just a little misunderstanding. Are all purebloods thick?"

"I'm a pureblood."

Hermione smirked slightly. "So, they are," she said. Sirius looked at her with mock indignation.

"And anyway, Snape's not a pureblood," Sirius said.

"He's not?" Hermione asked.

"No, his mum's old money -- pureblood -- and married an incompetent Muggle-born," he said. "Who might as well have been a Muggle."

"So he's a half-blood. He told me that his family -- the Snapes -- was, you know, an upstanding pureblood family. I thought that..." She trailed off.

"No, that would be the Princes," Sirius said. "His mother's family. Not all Slytherins are purebloods. I mean, you're not a pureblood."

"But I'm not a half-blood either," she admitted. "Truthfully, I can imagine that the Slytherins would kill me in my sleep if they were to find out about my bloodline." She pushed a curl behind her ear. There was a long, pregnant pause.

"So what's your story anyway?" he asked.

"I told you, remember," Hermione said.

"No, you told me about a mountain troll and a dance with Draco, nothing really about yourself," Sirius said.

"Oh..." Hermione said. "I also told you about my parents and sister."

"Tell me about your friends...um...Harry and Ron, right?"

"Yes. There's really not much to tell about them."

"You're as mysterious as you are pretty," Sirius stated. Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm serious."

"And I'm Hermione," she said. It was Sirius's turn to roll his eyes.

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he said.

"I bet you tell that to all the girls," she replied.

"Only the ones that really are," Sirius stated. He moved closer and Hermione's eyes widened. Then it happened. Sirius kissed her, barely a brush of the lips but it made her stomach do flips.

* * *

"Remember, you have to act like you're my girlfriend," Draco said. "We have to be comfortable with one another."

Lily sighed. "Or we can just hope that Narcissa transfers to Beauxbatons."

Draco looked depressed. "I'm not that lucky," he said. "You have no idea how awkward this is for me."

"For you?" Lily cried.

"And, well, you too," Draco said. He took a deep breath and hoped the entire ordeal would be worth it. Then he saw something he'd never forget. His eyes widened in shock. "Is that...?"

"Hermione," Lily finished, staring at the scene before her. There Sirius Black was **kissing** Hermione de Lioncourt. At the sound of her name, Hermione shoved Sirius away. Her face was a brilliant red color and Sirius looked startled. Draco bit back a laugh at the expression on her face.

Hermione raced away. "Oh, what a woman," Sirius murmured, grinning stupidly. He headed toward the Great Hall, whistling softly.

Lily looked from Sirius to Hermione's retreating form. "Well, that's just weird," she said.

* * *

Hermione slumped into a chair hidden deep in the library and immediately withdrew the notes. Her hands trembled as she tried to make out the words. Even with her immaculate handwriting, Hermione couldn't seem to decipher the words. She was way too confused. Why on earth was this happening? First Lucius, then Sirius, then Draco. **Draco Malfoy**, the boy who had made her life at Hogwarts miserable. Okay, so her relationship with Draco hadn't **always** been the way it had become. It was a lot different almost five years ago.

There was a time when they were actually friends. The time that they had been friends had barely lasted two months, but they had been friends once in their first year. She had realized that he was actually her academic equal and the two of them had spent a great deal of time in the library reading books and talking about their classes and what could be done to make them better. Hermione frowned. She hadn't thought about that for a long time. That, once upon a time, she had considered Draco Malfoy her closest friend.

That all ended on Halloween 1991 when Draco received his monthly treats from his mother and a letter that told him Hermione was a Muggle-born and he shouldn't fraternize with her. Of course, Draco immediately called off their friendship and went on to make the rest of the years miserable. That, combined with the hurtful comments from Ron, had sent her to the girls' bathroom when the troll attacked.

She was so deep in thought; she didn't realize that she was no longer alone. "Hermione, can I talk to you for a while?" a voice came. Hermione whipped around to find Remus. She sighed. _What now?_

"I don't see why not," she replied.

He nodded toward the empty chair across from her. "May I?"

"No one else is." Remus sat down and looked at her with his blue eyes.

"I need to talk to you about Draco," he said.

"What about Draco?"

"I know you've been helping him."


	24. In Which Dumbledore Makes a Decision

Part 24:  
In Which Dumbledore Makes a Decision  
(Monday, September 9, 1996)

_October 10, 1977_

_Dear Harry and Ron,  
I'm sorry I haven't written lately but things have been really busy lately. I've been doing loads of extra credit for Professor Flaherty; he despises me (and I thought Professor Snape was bad). Actually, Severus is really nice. We sit together at meals and talk. We have some amazing conversations about Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. He knows so much! I wonder why Professor Dumbledore hasn't chosen him for Defense Against the Dark Arts, not that Remus is bad at it. _

Remus and I are in an uneasy truce after a conversation we had in the library that I'd rather not talk about here. He doesn't really trust me, not that I blame him; I am a Slytherin. Even after all these weeks, it's still just sinking in. It's not so bad though; I live with Lily. She's really great, Harry. Although, you'd probably have a conniption fit if you knew that she's dating Draco. Yes, Harry, your mum is dating Draco Malfoy and is going to the Halloween Masque with her. I'm trying to fix things. I'm worried about the future. What if Draco prevents you from being born?

If you're not born, then Voldemort will still be around and very much in power in the future. This means I'm just writing this for the sake of writing this. I probably won't be around in the future past because Voldemort will destroy the Muggles. I can't even think about it. The whole ordeal gives me a headache. I'll do everything possible to make everything right.

Oh, bother, I've got to go…James is dragging me to the Quidditch game: Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor. Go, Gryffindor!

_Hermione_

Albus Dumbledore peered at the yellowing pages of the nineteen-year-old notebook as the tidy obviously-feminine writing appeared fresh. He watched the ink dry and age nearly two decades in a matter of seconds. Hermione and Draco had been in the past for over a month but had only been gone a matter of days. The headmaster took off his half-moon spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose. There seemed to be no consistency between the time that passed in the past and the time that passed in the present.

The disappearance of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had been weighing heavily on the student body. The students were wary to attend Potions since the students had disappeared in the class as well as Severus's increasingly erratic behavior. Dumbledore had been in possession of Hermione's notebook for some time but had yet to give it to Hermione's friends. For the first time in many years, Albus Dumbledore was at a loss. He had called a staff meeting to occur during the first Hogsmeade weekend of the 1996-1997 schoolyear.

As soon as the students had taken the carriages to Hogsmeade, the professors who had been at the school in 1977 filed into Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore looked at them gravely and Snape, Lupin, McGonagall, Sprout, and Binns met his pale-blue gaze. "I suppose you're wondering why I've called you here." He set the notebook on the table.

Lupin's blue eyes darkened as he slid the book toward him. "Hermione had a notebook like this," the lycanthrope said. Snape snapped to attention.

"What?" the Potions professor demanded, staring at the aged notebook warily.

"She wrote in it all the time, like a diary or a journal," Lupin went on causing Snape to pale noticeably. "Is this the one?"

Dumbledore slid the notebook back as Snape reached to grab it. "Indeed it is," the headmaster stated.

Snape swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and fought the urge to demand to see the notebook's contents. His ebon eyes left the notebook and his gaze turned to Dumbledore's. "What does this have to do with us?" he asked.

"Everything," Dumbledore said. "Fizzing Whizbee, anyone?" His comment was met by looks of disbelief painting his staff's faces. Dumbledore smiled faintly and stroked his long beard lovingly like a sleeping pet. "Miss Granger's diary was written to Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley." Lupin and Snape exchanged a wide-eyed glance and then quickly turned their gaze to the headmaster. "I have called you here to discuss whether we should release it or not."

"Of course not!" Snape cried.

"No!" Lupin's voice joined Snape's. Dumbledore's smile widened.

"Why shouldn't we?" Professor Binns inquired.

"You might recall a certain Slytherin Hermione de Lioncourt or, perhaps, one Gryffindor Draco Aquilus," McGonagall said.

Binns's spectral form straightened. "Ah, yes, magnificent students." His translucent brow wrinkled. "Things...changed...after they came. They volunteered to do a report over the Seventy-Second Ogre Revolt! Oh, a fantastic revolt with Blodnot the Flatulent! I don't seem to remember them after October 1977. Ah, well, my old ectoplasm isn't what it used to be. They remind me of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. Hmmm…has anyone seen the two lately?"

McGonagall sighed. "Ignatius," she said. "Hermione Granger **is** Hermione de Lioncourt. Draco Malfoy **is** Draco Aquilus."

"I knew those two seemed familiar," the ghostly professor said. "How is that possible?"

Sprout shook her head. For an exceedingly intelligent man, the ghost was completely absent-minded. How he remembered all the names, dates, and details of everything he taught was beyond her. Dumbledore cleared his throat, returning the professors' attention to him. "Mr. Potter has a great deal to worry about with Voldemort." Sprout stiffened and sucked in a breath at the Dark Lord's name and Dumbledore took no notice. "Should we pass onto him the worries of yesterday as well?"

Snape and Lupin vehemently shook their heads in the negative. "We should simply inform Harry that Hermione is safe and that is all he needs to know," McGonagall said.

* * *

"Where could she be?" Ron asked as he, Ginny, and Harry walked the halls. "And no one will tell us anything." 

"Maybe they don't know," Ginny suggested.

"I don't like this," Harry said. "I mean, no one can disappear, right?" At the lack of response from the Weasleys, he continued, "Right?" He sighed at their silence. "I hate magic." Ron and Ginny stared at him. "I mean, not all of the time. Just times like this. In the Muggle world, people **don't** disappear."

Ginny frowned slightly. "And she's with Malfoy, no less," Ron stated. "**Malfoy** of all people." He clenched his fists. "If he hurts her, I swear, I'll…"

"You'll do what, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked from behind the three. They turned around to face the professor. "What will you do?"

"Nothing, Professor Snape," Ron mumbled.

"I wouldn't worry about Mr. Malfoy harming Miss Granger," Snape said, a faraway look on his face. He walked past the trio and headed down toward the Potions classroom. "Miss Granger is perfectly safe." He walked off before the trio could ask questions.

"Is it me or has Snape gotten stranger in the past few days?" Ginny asked.

Ron eyed his younger sister. "And he was always the picture of normalcy?" the redhead stated. Ginny frowned, staring after the professor.

* * *

Snape's head was killing him. The memories were making things hard. Sometimes, he'd go days without a single memory, other times, he'd get a sudden flood of memories. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. All it did was leave him with headaches and affection for Hermione Granger. He never knew when the memories would assail him. He'd been fine for a few days and then there was another memory: his assignment from Voldemort. 

The part that made things even worse is he had no idea if he'd followed through with the task. He wracked his brain but since it hadn't actually happened yet, he had no idea. Up to a point, everything was the same as it had always been -- no new memories. Snape didn't even know how long Hermione and Draco had been in the past. He sat down at his desk, jerking his hand through his hair.

Hermione had nothing to fear from Draco. All she had to fear was the seventeen-year-old Severus Snape.


	25. Where Do We Go from Here?

Part 25:  
Where Do We Go from Here?  
(Monday, October 10, 1977)

"This is going to be the best game ever," Peter proclaimed. He was decked out in scarlet and gold sitting in the Gryffindor stands. Lily and Hermione sat in the very last row, looking over each other's papers and offering suggestions.

Lily looked at Hermione. "You're really good at this," the redhead said. "I've always had loads of trouble with Arithmancy. Professor Agnosco isn't much help either." Hermione beamed at Lily, flushing at the praise.

"It's nothing really," she said. "I've always been good with numbers. Numbers are the only constants I've really noticed between this world and my world."

"The Muggle world?" Lily asked and Hermione nodded slightly. _Not just the Muggle world, but **my** world,_ the brunette thought. "I've always been terrible with math." Lily wrinkled her nose as she examined the complex equation that Hermione had been helping her with. "I only got eleven O's because of Arithmancy."

"I got nine," she admitted. "And an E in Defense Against the Dark Arts but Severus has been helping me with that." She looked at Lily with realization. "You take all twelve classes? How do manage?"

Lily paled slightly. "Lots of hard work," she murmured.

* * *

Draco was nervous...which was a first for the Slytherin-turned-Gryffindor. He paced the locker room, holding the ancient Shooting Star, its bristles dragging on the ground. He wore his scarlet-and-gold uniform (after he'd finally remembered to change out of his school robes and into the uniform). He was, of course, the only nervous one. Remus, Regulus, and Stebbins tossed a Quaffle as Sirius made some adjustments to his padding and examined Draco's pacing. Abercrombie practiced swinging his bat well away from the other boys and James bored a hole into the wall, lost in thought. 

Finished with his pads, Sirius turned his full attention to the gray-eyed blonde. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and... "Bloody hell!" Sirius cried suddenly. Regulus dropped the Quaffle and James fell off the bench he sat on, banging his head on the locker behind him. James glared daggers at the larger boy.

Draco, lost in thought, hadn't even noticed Sirius's sudden outburst. "**Stop pacing**!" he ordered the blonde. The Shooting Star dropped from Draco's hand with a thunk and frowned at the six other boys. James picked himself up off the floor, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't worry, mate," the hazel-eyed Chaser said. "Remy's on your team now."

Remus looked sheepish. "How long am I gonna be paying for that?" he asked.

James clapped the werewolf on his shoulder. "As long as it's funny, Remy."

McGonagall entered the locker-room. "The match is about to start," she stated and the seven boys filed out onto the Pitch.

* * *

In the Gryffindor stands, Hermione, Lily, and Peter watched as the players streamed onto the Pitch. "You know, this is the first Quidditch game I've ever gone to," the older girl said. 

Hermione smiled. "I go--**went**--to every Quidditch game since first year. Harry and Ron are on the team. Ron's sister, Ginny, was going to try out too." Her smile faded as she thought about her friends nearly twenty years in the future, three years away from even being born. She stared off into the distance.

"Cheer up," Lily said. The voice bought her back. "You'll see them again over the holidays." Hermione swallowed thickly as the whistle for the game started. The fourteen figures began flying all over the Pitch and Lily's attention was drawn to the game.

_Will I ever see them again? Mum, Dad, Annabel, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville..._ She looked at the journal that showed a bit from inside her bag. It was the only link she had to her home.

* * *

In the Slytherin stands, Severus pretended to study the Quidditch game. He loved Quidditch but had absolutely no talent for it and James had been sure to rub it in when he had tried out in his second year. In the very back row of the stand, Severus gave all impression that his black eyes were studying the game in progress while his mind was elsewhere. His mind was on the Dark Lord's order. 

For the past month, Severus had been pushing his initiation into the back of his mind but as the Halloween Masque drew ever near, the subject of Hermione kept popping up. And every time his thoughts returned to that night in the Dark Lord's hold, the skin around the Dark Mark began to crawl and Severus grew nauseous. Lately, there had been nightmares of the open possibility of what the Dark Lord would do if Severus failed his task.

Dark bags had formed under his bloodshot eyes and stubble darkened his chin. The more he slept, the more tired he grew, and he very rarely slept anymore. The past week had been the worst. The nightmares had grown so horrifying that Severus hadn't slept in the better part of four days.

Since the Dark Lord's ultimatum, Severus had been withdrawn, especially around Hermione. The dark-haired girl hadn't seemed to notice. She seemed content with his monosyllabic responses. Before he knew it, the match was over with a score of two-hundred-fifty to zero in favor of Gryffindor. The new Keeper had performed admirably. Severus slowly made his way through the crowd, unaware of Hermione's eyes on him.

* * *

The Gryffindor Quidditch team roared, a great cacophony of cheers for the seven boys as the team exchanged high-fives and pats on the back with each other. "We won, Draco!" James cried. 

"It was only **one** game," Draco said bemused.

"Well, we Gryffindors take our games seriously," Sirius stated. "It means a party on the pitch."

"The last time I was promised a party on the pitch, all I got was an assignment to steal the bloody Cup," Draco said with a teasing pout.

Remus examined Draco slightly. "Ah, but this party's not for you, mate. It's for the greatest team in Hogwarts history," Peter said.


	26. Party on the Pitch

Something tells me that some of you will hate this chapter. I **promise** that there will **eventually** be a Draco/Hermione 'ship, just not quite yet. Flamers will be fed to Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback.

* * *

Part 26:  
Party on the Pitch  
(October 10, 1977 – Continued...)

_Well, you tried it just for once found it all right for kicks.  
But now you found out that it's a habit that sticks.  
And you're an orgasm addict,  
You're an orgasm addict. _

Sneakin' in the back door with dirty magazines,  
Now your mother wants to know what all those stains on your jeans  
And you're an orgasm addict. You're an orgasm addict.

Uh-huh, uh-huh, uhhhhh,  
Uh-uhhh, uh-uhhh, uhhhhh.

Remus couldn't help but blush as the music blasted from **his** charmed turntable (charmed so that it would work with all the magic in the air at Hogwarts). Of course, the LP **wasn't** his; he bet it was Sirius's. Sirius was always listening to Muggle punk to tick off his parents (it had worked and had been one of the many reasons that his mother had **finally** kicked him out).

The music was loud and Gryffindors danced on the Pitch, a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs mixed in. Some people sat on the sidelines, talking and generally having a good time as the butterbeer keg that James had snuck in was being drained. Remus looked around curiously. Where **was** James, anyway? Remus could have sworn he'd seen him earlier. Also missing were Sirius, Draco, Lily, and Hermione (even though she was a Slytherin, the bossy brunette had come to be an unofficial Gryffindor in the past month).

Remus's blue eyes gazed into the distance as he thought about his confrontation with Hermione about a month ago.

* * *

"I need to talk to you about Draco," he said. 

"What about Draco?"

"I know you've been helping him."

Hermione paled for a second and struggled with an answer. Though she despised the idea, playing dumb might just work to her advantage. "Helping him with what?" she asked.

"You know which test, I saw you last night," he said. "With Draco on the Pitch."

"Oh...**that** test," she said in a small voice. "What does it matter if I help?"

"It's Draco's test," Remus said.

"So he can become--" she trailed off "--one of you."

"Exactly," he said. "I really don't know why I didn't just go to James, Sirius, and Peter first. He doesn't deserve to be one of us."

"Remus, no!" Hermione said. She was taken aback by her sudden outburst. Why should **she** care about Draco not being accepted as one of the Marauders? She took a deep breath. "Look, this is going to be hard to explain, but I'll try. Draco and I have known each other for years. He's usually an ass, but sometimes...okay, maybe a little less -- make that a **lot** less -- than 'sometimes'...he can be nice. Draco is the son of a couple of purebloods and is only allowed two friends, both purebloods, both dumber than dirt and incapable of any conversation that consists of more than the occasional grunt or 'yes, Draco' or something as equally mind-numbingly boring."

"What about you?" Remus asked. "You're Muggle-born."

Hermione winced as she remembered her breakfast ramble. "I'm his dirty little secret," Hermione said. "His parents would probably kill us both if they knew -- or, well, just me. We've always been on again, off again." There was a pause as she thought back on first year. "Most of the time, off again. Way off." Her brown eyes met his golden ones. "Draco needs friends, real friends. And that's what I hope you boys are: real friends. Not frienemies."

"'Frienemies'?" Remus asked.

"People you think are friends but will stab you in the back at the first sign of trouble," she replied. "Who knows, maybe having some actual friends will make him less of a prat."

"You actually dated him?" Remus asked.

Hermione smirked. "Sometimes," she stated. "Draco may seem like an utter bastard, but sometimes he can be a good guy." Hermione blinked a couple of times, apparently lost in thought. "Just give him a chance...he may just surprise us both."

* * *

Remus had been thinking a lot about his conversation with Hermione in the library. There was something off about her that he just couldn't put his finger on. Anyway, he wasn't really worried. When the time came for Draco's final task, Remus had the perfect idea. A task that made Hercules's tasks seem easy in comparison. 

_You get in a heat, you get in a sulk.  
But you still keep a-beatin' your meat to pulp.  
And you're an orgasm addict.  
You're an orgasm addict. _

You're a kid Casanova.  
You're a no-josep; it's a labor of love, fuckin' yourself to death.  
Orgasm addict,  
You're an orgasm addict,

Uh-huh, uh-huh, uhhhhh, uh-uhhh, uh-uhhh, uhhhhh.

* * *

Draco blinked several times as the strains of the song from the pitch reached him while he sat on the floor of the room he shared with James. "Did that song just say 'orgasm addict'?" he inquired. James chuckled. 

"The Buzzcocks," he said. Draco stared at him curiously. "That's the band, the Buzzcocks and the song's 'Orgasm Addict.' It's on one of Sirius's LPs." At Draco's blank look, he continued. "Records, long-playing records."

"Records?" Draco asked.

"Um, they're these...black disks, 'bout yea big," James explained, making a gesture of the size of a record. "And they have music on them. You put them on a record player and they play songs."

"Oh," Draco said. _Must be a '70s thing,_ he mused. His attention was drawn back to the concoction before him. He was nervous and with good reason. He was still living with the aftermath of his disastrous memory potion with Granger.

James cocked a brow as he examined the paleness that Draco's skin took on as he examined the potion. "What is it?" he asked.

"Let's just say that someone I knew made a mistake with a potion and I don't know him anymore," Draco stated.

James winced in sympathy. "Well, we did everything in the book," he stated. "So everything will turn out okay." Draco held back the urge to glare at the black-haired boy's optimism. Draco was a pessimist by nature and his trip back in time due to a mess-up with hellebore, thistledown, and thyme only made him more of a pessimist (especially where potions were concerned). While Draco was lost in thought, James added the final ingredients. "Done." Draco stared at the potion with distrust as James carefully ladled out the proper amounts into two cups. "You're not a chicken, are you, Aquilus?"

Draco's eyes flashed at James's chide. "I'm **not** chicken," he hissed and he quickly downed his portion. It tasted **horrible**. Draco watched as James downed his portion as well. It didn't take long for the potion to work and, in no time, Draco was staring at a blurry version of himself. "It worked." He cleared his throat as James's voice came out.

James stared at Draco's fingers with amazement. The clarity of his new fingers made him realize just how much he actually **needed** his stupid glasses. "It did," he said in Draco's voice.

"You have really horrible eyesight," Draco said.

"Er, yeah," James said sheepishly, digging into his trunk and taking out his glasses case. He handed the wire-framed spectacles to Draco and the Slytherin-turned-Gryffindor put them on. Draco caught sight of his new face in the mirror and was startled at just how much James looked like his future son. Give James a lightning-bolt-shaped cut on his forehead and green eyes and they'd be identical. "What?"

James's voice pulled Draco out of his thoughts. "Nothing, you just remind me of someone I used to know," Draco said, adjusting the glasses.

James smirked. "I get that a lot," he said, picking himself off the floor. Draco carefully hid the remaining Polyjuice Potion as the two exited the Head Boy's quarters. In the head common room, Hermione and Lily were finishing up their homework in comfortable silence. "You're not going to the party?" James practically whined.

"We're almost done," Lily sighed. "Then we'll go to your little party." James waited with bated breath for the girls to finish double-checking their answers. They carefully put up their supplies and headed for the door. To Hermione's surprise, Draco-in-James's body crooked his arm like a valiant gentleman for Lily to take it. Lily smiled and took James's arm in hers as Hermione stared at the couple.

_Oh, boy, this can't be good,_ Hermione thought. Her thoughts were sidetracked when she saw her date waiting for her at the door. She smiled, trying not to blush at his returned grin. To Hermione's shock, she was now dating a guy that she had never even thought of in the "date" way before. It was one of the things; she could never find the way to write into her journal. She couldn't seem to put it into words and the only idea she could come up with -- "Dear Harry, I'm dating your godfather" -- just seemed crass. The song changed.

_Cold late night, so long ago,  
When I was not so strong, you know,  
A pretty man came to me,  
Never seen eyes so blue.  
You know I could not run away,  
It seemed we'd seen each other in a dream,  
It seemed like he knew me,  
He looked right through me, yeah._

It had started after the kiss **and** after an entire week of avoiding the dark-haired muscular youth like the plague. He had finally cornered her and reluctantly, she had agreed to go out on a date with him to Hogsmeade (under the condition that if she didn't enjoy herself, he would leave her alone). He was completely different than any guy she'd ever dated before: goofy and cute and carefree with the ability to just have fun. It was a nice change of pace. And Hermione told herself that it wouldn't have any affect on the future.

_"Come on home, girl," he said with a smile.  
"You don't have to love me yet,  
Let's get high awhile.  
But try to understand,  
Try to understand,  
Try, try, try to understand,  
I'm a magic man."_

Sirius, Hermione, James, Lily, and Draco made their way onto the pitch where the party was in full swing. Couples danced and drank and generally enjoyed themselves. The music changed and Sirius led Hermione onto the pitch, not noticing the look that James gave him. Hermione laughed as Sirius began to dance. "C'mon, Hermione," Sirius chided. Blushing, Hermione began to dance as well.

_Winter nights, we sang in tune  
Played inside the months of moon  
Never think of never,  
Let this spell last forever.  
Summer lover passed to fall,  
Tried to realize it all,  
Mama says she's worried,  
Growin' up in a hurry, yeah._

James gave Lily a winning grin. "May I have this dance?" he asked. Before Lily could respond, he also led Lily onto the pitch and began to dance with her. Lily seemed flustered but began to get into actually having fun for once. Draco stood at the opening to the pitch, his eyes glued on Hermione and Sirius seemingly having the times of their life.

_"Come on home, girl," Mama cried on the phone.  
"Too soon to lose my baby yet, my girl should be at home!"  
But try to understand,  
Try to understand,  
Try, try, try to understand,  
He's a magic man, Mama,  
Ahhh,  
He's a magic man._

It struck Draco that he had never seen Hermione having as much fun as she was having with Sirius. He'd never seen her so free-spirited and it was making him sick. He didn't understand it. Maybe it was the fact that the seventeen-year-old girl was having the time of her life with a man nearly twenty years her senior. Okay, so Sirius and Hermione **looked** to be the same age and were, in fact, pretty much the same age. No, it didn't have anything to do with the age. It was something entirely different. Something that he couldn't name.

_"Come on home, girl," he said with a smile.  
"I cast my spell of love on you, a woman from a child."  
But try to understand,  
Try to understand,  
Oh, oh, oh,  
Try, try to understand  
Try, try, try to understand.  
He's a magic man, oh, yeah!  
He's got the magic hands._

* * *

At the end, Draco **is** Draco-in-James's body and James **is** James-in-Draco's body; I didn't realize that there would be so much confusion.  
The first song is "Orgasm Addict" by the Buzzcocks and the second song is "Magic Man" by Heart.


	27. Girls' Day Out

Part 27:  
Girls' Day Out  
(Friday, October 14, 1977)

Hermione sat on her bed, looking over her Potions essay. "So, do you have an outfit for the Halloween Masque?" Lily inquired as she brushed out her long, red hair.

Hermione looked at her roommate. "Er...no..." she admitted.

"Well, tomorrow is a Hogsmeade weekend; would you like to go shopping with me?" Lily asked as she headed toward the bathroom. Hermione heard the water run, and Lily ducked her head into the Head Girl's room, drying her face with a towel. "Well?"

Hermione looked at Lily. "I'm really not good at that girly stuff," she stated.

Lily had retreated back into the bathroom and called back to Hermione over the sound of running water. "It's okay, I'll help."

Hermione winced. "Swell," she mumbled.

"What?" Lily called.

"Sounds great!" Hermione replied.

(Saturday, October 15, 1977)

Hermione finished proofreading her Potions essay and looked toward the Head Girl's room with hope. Maybe Lily had forgotten. Maybe, just maybe -- the door to the Head Girl's room opened and Lily exited -- maybe not. Hermione was unlike most girls her age; she **hated** shopping...especially for **clothes**. There had only been one instance of Hermione **actually** enjoying clothes shopping and that had been when she had been searching for her Yule Ball gown. And that had been because she had wanted to impress Harry. Hermione didn't feel that same need with Sirius or her date for the Halloween Masque, Severus.

It was still mind-boggling to think that she considered **Severus Snape** a friend. Hermione frowned thoughtfully. She should really spend more time with Severus; she hadn't really been spending much time with him lately. Hermione felt a wave of guilt and made up her mind to spend more time with him. The brunette shook off her thoughts and realized that Lily was humming. Hermione's ears perked as she recognized "Love Me Do."

The dark-haired girl peered at the Head Girl and Lily blushed, stopping. "I'm in a good mood," she defended.

"Er...why?" Hermione asked.

"In Hogsmeade, I have a date with Draco..." Lily said, grinning at her words. Hermione paled noticeably. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. He's just so different than any other guy I've ever dated."

There was a long pause in which Hermione devised as many ways as possible she could kill the Slytherin-turned-Gryffindor. She paused her thoughts of homicide and wondered if it was possible to kill someone before they even existed. "I'm sure he is," Hermione said, clenching her jaw. _Forget the paradox. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him. **A lot**. I'm going to kill him so well that they'll need dental records..._ she thought. Lily frowned and Hermione sucked in a calming breath before looking back at Lily. "It's okay. I'm fine." _Although Draco Malfoy **isn't** going to be,_ she added mentally.

The early morning awkwardness was forgotten on Hermione's part by the time the two girls found themselves exiting the thestral-drawn carriages in downtown Hogsmeade. Overall, the town didn't look too different from the Hogsmeade Hermione knew. Truthfully, it didn't surprise her much. The Wizarding World never changed, just the faces it held. Now, London, she bet that it looked **entirely** different than the one she was familiar with.

Lily led Hermione through the town and a few people stopped them to chat with Lily. They finally arrived at their destination: a small shop that Hermione had never seen before. All sorts of costumes decorated moving mannequins in the large shop window and every few minutes, the mannequins would wear different outfits. The tiny shop, like most that Hermione had seen in the Wizarding World, looked much bigger on the inside. The shop smelled like pumpkins and was decorated with all sorts of Halloween decorations. Behind the counter was a waif-like woman with pale skin, blood-red lips, and dark hair. Hermione was pretty sure she was a vampire...or at least **pretending** to be one.

Lily walked up to the counter as the woman was ringing up someone. "Oh, Lily, I have your costume," the woman said with a hint of a lilting French accent.

"Oh, thank you, Delia," Lily said as the woman handed her a long, Grecian gown in an emerald green color. "May I try it on?"

"Go ahead," Delia said as she examined Hermione. Lily went back to the changing rooms and came back wearing the outfit. Hermione's eyes widened. Lily was pretty, but the gown made her look even more so. The emerald color brought out her eyes and pale skin and made her red hair even redder. The gown had a gathered waist that went from just below her breasts to the swell of her hips, a long skirt that brushed the ground, and was sleeveless.

Lily blushed as most of the males that were in the shop turned their gaze to her. "How do I look?" she asked.

Delia clapped her French-manicured hands together as she examined the dress. "_Magnifique_!" she said.

"So what are you going as?" Hermione asked.

"A nymph," Lily said. "I've got ivy I'm going to put into my hair, around my upper arms, and a pair of sandals." She turned to Delia. "Hermione needs a costume as well."

Delia's perfectly-shaped brows rose with horror. "_Mon Dieu_! Zee dance ees only two weeks away!" she cried, her French accent making her English sound like Fleur Delacour's. She took a deep breath and continued with the slightly-accented voice she had started with, "Well, I always do appreciate a challenge. Let us see, who do you wish to be?"

"Er...I haven't given it much thought," Hermione stated. Delia's eyes widened and she turned away, letting out a spiel of angry French under her breath.

"The point of Halloween is simple--" Lily started.

"Free candy?" Hermione suggested.

Lily smiled slightly. "It's come as you aren't night," she replied. She examined her reflection in a mirror. "'Man is least himself when he speaks in his own person. Give him a mask and he'll tell you the truth.' Oscar Wilde."

"Being someone you aren't makes you more yourself?" Hermione asked and Lily nodded. "What if you don't know who you are?"

"Then it's the perfect time to find out," Lily stated. After two hours of thinking and looking, Hermione had chosen her costume. Delia agreed to owl it to Hogwarts in time for the Masque. "You're going to look amazing for the Masque." Hermione smiled and blushed at Lily's comment.

* * *

After finishing costume shopping, Hermione met with Sirius at their prearranged destination: Honeydukes. The shop was full of Hogwarts students desperate to spend their less-than-hard-earned money and the heady scent of sweets. It didn't take Hermione long to find the Marauders; they were looking at eggs that dissolved into marshmallow birds. Sirius smile at Hermione. "Hello, Hermione," Sirius said, giving her a light peck on the lips.

Draco (who had been living in James's body for over a week now and had adapted to the role quite easily with the exception of startling his professors by actually answering questions) scowled slightly at Sirius. He was still having that strange feeling that was entirely new and annoying; which could in no possible way be jealousy.

Hermione blushed and looked at the rest of the Marauders. "Remus, Peter, James," she said.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" Sirius asked. Hermione nodded and Sirius led her out of the shop.

"What does she see in him anyway?" Draco mumbled.

"You okay there, Prongs?" Peter asked. Draco looked at the Marauders as he realized that he was still in James's body.

Sirius smiled at Hermione as they walked through downtown Hogsmeade. "So, what'd you do today?" he asked.

"Lily dragged me to this shop to get a costume for the Masque," Hermione stated.

"Ooh," Sirius said. "Revealing, hopefully?" She smacked his arm playfully. "Ow." He gave her a mock-pout. Hermione's brown eyes turned to Sirius.

"Tell me about yourself," she said.

"Is that a question or an order?" he asked with a quirk of his dark brow.

"Consider it both," she replied.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Everything," she said.

"You didn't tell me everything," he reasoned.

"I told you all I'm going to tell you," she replied with a faint smile.

"You're a mysterious woman, Miss de Lioncourt. I find that **very** attractive..."

"What can I say? I'm a mystery wrapped in an enigma. So, Sirius Black, tell me your darkest secrets."

He grinned, showing off perfect, white teeth. "As you wish," he replied. "Shall we?" He nodded toward a weeping willow beside a small brook. She nodded and he led her underneath the willow's shade. "Well, I'm a pureblood, Sirius Octavian Black," he said. "My brother, Regulus, and I are the only ones in the Black family to ever be in a house other than Slytherin. Well, with the exception of our cousin, Andromeda. Mum had a right fit over that when we came home for Christmas break. She was ranting and raving. She locked herself in her room for a month." He smiled faintly. "One of the best months I ever had. My mum's name is Walburga and dad's Orion, but everyone calls him Augustus because there are so many 'Orions' in the family..."

Hermione giggled and Sirius gave her a look. "It reminds me of a book I read."

"What book?"

"It's a Muggle book. I doubt you've ever heard of it: _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ by Roald Dahl."

"You're right there. What's it about?"

"Well, obviously, it's about Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." Sirius gave her another look. "Charlie Bucket is a poor kid with a loving family, his mum, dad, Grandpas George and Joe, and Grandmas Georgina and Josephine. Willy Wonka is an eccentric candy-maker who owns the world's most famous chocolate factory. He sends out five golden tickets to five lucky children throughout the world who will gain a lifetime's supply of candy. The first golden ticket is found by Augustus Gloop, this boy who won't stop eating."

"And my father's name reminded you of this book?"

"There's a poem too, if you'd like to hear it?"

"I could use some amusement," Sirius stated.

Hermione closed her eyes and pictured the book. She'd read it ages ago but she'd always had a magnificent memory. Slowly, she began:

_"Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop!  
The great big greedy nincompoop!  
How long could we allow this beast  
To gorge and guzzle, feed and feast  
On everything he wanted to?_

Great Scott! It simply wouldn't do!  
However long this pig might live,  
We're positive he'd never give  
Even the smallest bit of fun  
Or happiness to anyone.

So what we do in cases such  
As this, we use the gentle touch,  
And carefully we take the brat  
And turn him into something that  
Will give great pleasure to us all--  
A doll, for instance, or a ball,  
Or marbles or a rocking horse.

But this revolting boy, of course,  
Was so unutterably vile,  
So greedy, foul, and infantile  
He left a most disgusting taste  
Inside our mouths, and so in haste  
We chose a thing that, come what may,  
Would take the nasty taste away.

'Come on!' we cried, 'The time is ripe  
To send him shooting up the pipe!  
He has to go! It has to be!'  
And very soon, he's going to see  
Inside the room to which he's gone  
Some funny things are going on.

But don't, dear children, be alarmed;  
Augustus Gloop will not be harmed,  
Although, of course, we must admit  
He will be altered quite a bit.  
He'll be quite changed from what he's been,  
When he goes through the fudge machine:

Slowly, the wheels go round and round,  
The cogs begin to grind and pound;  
A hundred knives go slice, slice, slice;  
We add some sugar, cream, and spice;  
We boil him for a minute more,  
Until we're absolutely sure  
That all the greed and all the gall  
Is boiled away for once and all.

Then out he comes! And now! By grace!  
A miracle has taken place!  
This boy, who only just before  
Was loathed by men from shore to shore,  
This greedy brute, this louse's ear,  
Is loved by people everywhere!  
For who could hate or bear a grudge Against a luscious bit of fudge?"

By the time, Hermione had finished her recital; Sirius was lying on the ground laughing so hard that tears were springing to his eyes. "Bloody hell, have you met my dad?" he asked.

"No," Hermione said. Sirius's twinkling dark eyes met hers.

"That poem sounds exactly like him," he stated. Hermione grinned. "Know where I can find a copy of the book?"

"Pretty much any Muggle bookstore, I think," she said.

* * *

The poem is "Augustus Gloop" by Roald Dahl from his 1967 novel, _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_.


	28. The Best Laid Plans

Part 28:  
The Best-Laid Plans  
(Saturday, October 15, 1977 – Continued...)

Draco paced in Honeydukes as Peter and Remus watched him. "Er...Prongs?" Peter asked.

"I don't get what she sees in him," Draco said.

Peter shrugged. "Well. He **is** blonde. Some girls like that," Peter said.

"What?" Draco asked before noticing that Lily and James were heading into Madam Puddifoot's. "Of course, women like blondes." He examined his body as James animated it. "How could any girl resist such a devilishly handsome bloke?" Peter took a couple of steps away from Draco.

Draco glared at the rat-like boy. "I'm secure enough in my masculinity to appreciate another guy, doesn't mean I want to shag him." He paused and looked off into the distance. "What do you think they're doing?"

"Making googly eyes at one-another as he whispers sweet nothings into her ear?" Peter suggested as he nodded toward the window of Madam Puddifoot's where James and Lily were doing just that.

"Not **them**! Padfoot and Hermione!" Draco said.

Remus's sandy eyebrows rose. "They're definitely not quoting poetry to one-another."

* * *

_"Drink to me, only with thine eyes,  
And I will pledge with mine;  
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,  
And I'll not look for wine.  
The thirst, that from the soul doth rise,  
Doth ask a drink divine:  
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,  
I would not change for thine. _

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,  
Not so much honoring thee,  
As giving it a hope, that there  
It could not wither'd be.  
But thou thereon didst only breathe,  
And sent'st it back to me:  
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,  
Not of itself, but thee."

Hermione's face flamed as Sirius whispered the sweet words into her ear; his hands twined in her brown curls. She fanned herself as she looked at him. "Wow, Sirius, I never would have figured you for a romantic. Er, who wrote that?"

"Ben Jonson." Sirius grinned, showing off perfect, blindingly-white teeth. "What can I say, Miss de Lioncourt, I'm a mystery wrapped inside an enigma," he purred.

Hermione's eyebrow arched. "I'm sure you are..." She snuggled into his arms, letting her fingers toy with his black hair, and breathing in his scent. Pine needles and something wild. He kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her vanilla-scented hair. She stiffened and Sirius looked to see what was wrong. Lily and James-in-Draco's-body were walking by hand-in-hand, laughing and whispering to one-another like school children. That was **it**!

Hermione gave Sirius a sweet smile. "I'll be **right** back," she said. She stood up, brushed off, and marched toward the couple. "We need to talk. **Now**." She gave a tight smile to Lily. "Do you mind if I borrow him for just a few minutes?"

"Uh, sure," Lily said, but Hermione was already dragging him away none-too-gently.

Once out of sight and hearing range, Hermione wheeled on him. "What the **hell** do you think you're doing?!" she demanded.

James was confused. "Er...what?"

"What? No snide comments, **Malfoy**?" Hermione growled. James was too stunned to speak. "We're only here until we find a way back. And I **won't** let you keep James and Lily from getting together and having Harry. I won't **let** you destroy the future."

"The **future**!?" James demanded.

"Don't change the future, eh?" a voice came from behind her and Hermione whipped around to find its source. She knew that tone, even if it **was** in James's voice.

"Draco?" she squeaked. He didn't even have to reply. She **knew**. "And that makes you...James?" Draco's body nodded. There was a long, tense silence. "Bloody hell."

"So...the **future**, huh? What year is it?" James asked. He paused with realization. "I marry **Lily Evans**?" A dreamy grin came over his face and Hermione stared at him. That was **definitely not** a Malfoy look. In fact, Hermione wasn't even sure if she'd ever **seen** Draco give a non-patronizing smile. "And I have a son? Harry. Your friend?" Hermione gave a tight smile that was more of a grimace. "How old is he?"

"1996. And Harry? He's, uh, about sixteen and an insufferable git," Draco said.

Hermione glared at Draco. "He's just saying that because he's..." Draco sent her a pleading glance that surprised her so much she trailed off.

James looked at Hermione. "Because he's a Malfoy?" James asked.

Draco made James's face pale. "You told him?" he demanded.

James shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me, you seem an okay bloke," he stated. "I mean, by default, I should hate Sirius...him being a Black and all."

"Funny you should mention that..." Draco stated. "My mum's a Black."

James studied Draco and burst into laughter. "No way...Narcissa and Lucius?" James asked. Draco winced. "Bloody hell! Your mum's been trying to make the moves on you...ugh..."

Draco shuddered. "You didn't have to remind me..." he said with a sick look.

"Draco's going to have to invest in some high-quality psychiatric help," Hermione stated with a smug grin.

Draco glared at Hermione. "So...Harry, my **son**, Harry...he's the one who defeated a mountain troll in his first year?" James asked.

Hermione frowned as they went back to the subject of the future. "Er...yeah...one in the same," she said.

"The one you have a crush on?" James asked. Hermione paled.

"I--I never said I had a crush on H--Harry," she stammered. James gave a bit of a smirk and Hermione scowled at the very-familiar look.

"Yes. You did. When you told us about how you and Draco started dating--"

"Now. This is a story that I **must** hear..." Draco drawled.

James eyed Hermione. "The Yule Ball. Fourth year, you wore the black velvet dress robes. Like the song," James said, imitating a breathless young woman.

Draco looked at the girl, eyebrows rising. "You remembered what I wore?" he asked.

Hermione blushed, glaring at James and debating just **how** much the future would change if James met an untimely death... "I remember a lot of things..." she insisted.

Draco smirked, an expression that was becoming all-too-familiar on James's face. "About me?"

Big, brown eyes narrowed as the Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin glared at the face of her best friend's father. "I remember you make a cute ferret..." she said in a low, threatening voice.

James turned to Draco. "You've been a ferret?" Draco scowled. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'" His gaze slid to the brunette. "Did you turn him into a ferret?"

"She most certainly **did not**!" Draco cried.

"Er...James...this isn't a good idea. We can't change the future..."

"That's rich, coming from a girl dating her best mate's godfather," Draco said.

"It's different..." Hermione protested.

"I'm going to have to side with Draco on this one," James said. His eyes widened. "Bloody hell, I'm twenty years older than you."

"N--nineteen," Hermione stammered.

"Nineteen? Wow. So what'm I like in the future?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You live happily ever after with Lily and are constantly making your son sick with public displays of affection," Draco intervened.

James grinned. "Happily ever after? I could get used to that," he said.

Hermione couldn't look at James. "But you **can't** tell Lily, Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail, or **anyone** for that matter," Draco stated. "You shouldn't have been told, anyone, but Hermione got all antsy."

"I did **not** get antsy!" Hermione insisted. "I thought he was **you**. I'll let you get back to Lily now." James sauntered off, a grin plastered to Draco's face. Hermione turned to Draco when James was out of earshot. "I really appreciate what you did back there."

"It was no problem, I like James, he's a good bloke," Draco stated.

"You understand, don't you?" she said. "H--he and Lily have to die. That's the way it has to be." She swallowed an emotional constriction in her throat. "That's their destiny. They died fighting evil. Their death -- and the death of so many others -- that's the point, that's why we fight. To avenge them. To stop Voldemort from destroying any more innocent lives." She wiped a tear away. "That's the way it has to be."

Draco Malfoy wasn't sure how to respond to an emotional teenaged girl and he **really** didn't know how to respond to what Hermione Granger did next. She kissed him. Not like the tonsil-cleansing, anger-induced kiss that he'd given her just over a month ago: a real kiss. A chaste brush of her lips across his. Apparently as startled by her reaction as he was, Hermione's eyes widened and she rushed back to Sirius. Draco stood there for a long while, touching the pads of his fingers to his lips, a look of wonder and shock on James's face.

* * *

Poem is "Song, To Celia" by Ben Jonson.


	29. Belonging

Part 29:  
Belonging  
(Saturday, October 15, 1977 - Continued...)

Hermione was in shock. She had kissed **Draco Malfoy**, **willingly**, and had **meant** it. What had she been thinking? Draco was a **bad guy**; he was a Slytherin (okay, so **now** he was a Gryffindor) and he had made life miserable for her since they'd met (okay, not **since** they'd met, but most of the time they'd known each other). The dark-haired Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin slumped onto her green-and-silver-bedecked four-poster bed. She reached into the end table and fished out her journal and a quill. She stared at the book and quill for the longest time before sighing and putting them back. How could she explain this to Harry and Ron? Hermione frowned and began to think.

* * *

Hermione Granger had met Draco Malfoy on September 1, 1991: their first day at Hogwarts. It had been before the elder Malfoys had assigned Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson to be Draco's cronies. Hermione had found an empty car and had been practicing a levitation spell on one of the Cauldron Cakes she had purchased. For some reason, the spell wasn't working and the know-it-all was confused. She couldn't think of a single time that she had gotten something wrong once she put her mind to getting it right. But this spell was driving her near insanity. Every other spell she had tried had worked perfectly. The levitation spell was child's play compared to _Alohomora_ or one of the other spells in her book, but she couldn't make it work. She was almost ready to break her wand in half when a voice startled her.

"It's _Wing-**ard**-ium Le-vi-**o**-sa_," the voice said. The Cauldron Cake rose as the owner of the voice made an elegant motion with his wand. "And it's swish-flick-and-swish." Hermione turned to face the boy; he was a handsome, aristocratic-looking blonde with a pointy face and silver eyes.

Hermione's eyebrows rose and, with them, a blush. She angrily snatched the floating Cauldron Cake from midair. "I can**not** **believe** I couldn't get that right," she said with disgust. He shrugged and rescued the Cauldron Cake from Hermione's crushing grip. He sat down on the bench opposite Hermione and began to unwrap the Cauldron Cake.

He gave Hermione a hint of a smile that showed a glimpse of perfect pearly whites. Hermione ran her tongue over her buckteeth self-consciously. "Not **everyone** can get **every** spell right the first time," he replied, nibbling the Cauldron Cake. His well-manicured nails tapped his wand with annoyance. "In chapter eight, I'm having trouble with spell twenty-nine."

The girl was impressed. "_Alohomora_?" she questioned.

"I can't get it to work," he admitted.

"Well, it doesn't work on **all** locks," she said. She gave him a small smile. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Draco Malfoy." They talked the entire ride with a brief intermission when Hermione had tried to help Neville find Trevor the Toad.

At Hogwarts, Draco and Hermione split up for the Sorting. Now, as Hermione recalled, Draco had looked somewhat upset when she had been Sorted into Gryffindor; Hermione had been equally disappointed when Draco had been Sorted into Slytherin. The next day when Hermione had been studying in the library, she had met Draco again. She had found a cozy little hidey-hole in the back of the library and near a roaring fire that helped remove the constant chill in the air that was the result of the school being housed in a centuries-old stone castle. Her books had been sprawled over the ancient table as Hermione studied for a test that wouldn't be given for nearly two months.

Draco had meandered through the stacks to find Hermione's sanctuary and began to place his books down on the sparse areas that the Gryffindor's books didn't cover. She stared at him as he made himself comfortable. "I thought Slytherins and Gryffindors weren't supposed to be seen together," she chided.

He gave another perfect smile. "Well, we're not being **seen**," he stated. "Plus, I've always been the kind to break the rules. Or, at least, stretch them to their limits." For the next two months, they met in the library, studying in companionable silence. For the next two months, Hermione looked forward to meeting him, talking about magic, and learning as much as she could from him without being **too** obvious. She had considered Draco Malfoy someone she could commiserate with. It had been very stupid of her.

* * *

_Some rule-breaker he had turned out to be,_ Hermione mused as she relaxed on her bed. _Sixty days later, he gets a letter from Mummy and pretends that the past two months hadn't happened._ The dark-haired girl stared at the green blankets on her bed with disgust. That had been the part that had hurt the most. His pretending that nothing had happened between them. That they had never been friends. That just because she was her parents weren't wizards she wasn't as good as he was.

The girl's life had been far from easy since she'd started at Hogwarts. She had been thrust into this entirely different world that she hadn't even **dreamed** possible at the tender age of eleven. Well, there had always been dreams. She had never felt quite like anyone else she had ever met and it was hard for her to make friends. She was too bossy. Too much of a know-it-all. Not pretty enough. For those first two months at Hogwarts, she had felt like she had belonged. She had had her first real friend.

For the next five years, Draco's callousness had made Hermione wonder if their friendship had ever really happened or if it had been simply a figure of an overactive imagination. Hermione swallowed hard. If she hadn't befriended Ron and Harry, Hermione had no idea what would have become of her. She didn't **want** to think about it. **Couldn't** think about it. Life had happened this way for a reason. Now, it was Hermione's responsibility to try and salvage the future. She couldn't **believe** how much she'd messed up in the past two months.

With a hard swallow, Hermione slid off the bed, left the Head House and made her way to the only person who could possibly make things better. She only hoped he wouldn't make her rather necessary visit unnecessarily painful. She made her way through the nearly-empty hallways and to the dungeon. If things hadn't changed too much, then Professor Flaherty's office should be where Snape's was in the future. Key word: **should**. Nervously, Hermione raised her hand to knock on the door to what had been -- **would** be Snape's office. The door opened before the girl's hand could connect to the heavy wood.

Professor Flaherty looked at her expectantly; his thin lips even thinner as his beady eyes glared at her. "It took you long enough, Miss Granger."

* * *

The way that the Polyjuice Potion had been scheduled, Draco lost James's form at sunset unless he took more. Every day, Draco prepared for just that; relieved to leave the body that had started to make itself familiar to him. Draco locked himself in the Head Boy's Room and waited for the change. As the sun sank beneath the horizon, tanned skin paled; messy, black hair straightened itself out and bleached itself white-blond; calloused fingers lengthened and the nails, bitten to the quick, grew into beautifully-manicured ones; hazel eyes paled to silver; the face would lose its strength and become a pointy, high-cheekboned, full-lipped one; bones shortened; the body thinned; muscles would become wiry but smooth; and, in a few minutes, Draco Malfoy would be back in his own skin. Each time, Draco took a deep breath of relief, thankful that the Polyjuice Potion hadn't been muddled up and leave the blonde stranded in James's body. It had been a week since Draco had been turning himself into James and the transformation still amazed him.

Draco couldn't wait until he could be himself full-time again. Well, not totally himself: Draco Aquilus. The blonde found that he was more comfortable in his Gryffindor skin than his Slytherin one...and the longer he stayed, the fewer reasons he could find to go back to his own time. He had friends here: real, true friends. He had a blank slate. He had choices, options, and a **reason**. Once he was home, things would be the same as they ever were: Lucius would be trapped in Azkaban; Draco would be forced back into the Dark Lord's servitude. And the sixteen-year-old would have to kill Dumbledore to save his parents' lives.

The blonde swallowed hard as he thought of the Dark Lord's mission. There was no way he could do it. There was **no** way he could kill anyone. The Slytherin had been **tempted** to do so to Potter and his cronies after the past two humiliating years that had ended with him, Crabbe, and Goyle cursed by Potter and company, and there had always been threats, but idle threats were an entirely different animal than actually murdering someone. Dumbledore's life or his parents'. True, Narcissa had been horrifying since he'd gone back in the past, but she was **still** his mother. And once he cast a good old-fashioned _Obliviate_ on himself, she would be the same woman who had taken care of him since birth. As long as Draco was gone, Lucius and Narcissa were safe.

And as long as Draco was gone, he had James and Lily and Peter and, to an extent, Remus and Sirius. He had real friends and a future. Okay, so he was completely and utterly broke, but he could manage. He could...well...he could cut back on everything and get a job somewhere. Truthfully, Draco had never even **thought** of having a job. The Malfoys were filthy rich and their mass of Galleons would probably never run out in the next millennium, but you had to give up on every hope and every dream to be a Malfoy. You had to follow in the footsteps of those who came before you. Or else.

The door opened and Remus entered. "Prongs? What? Draco? Wait...weren't you..." Remus started. He looked back into the common room with confusion as he saw another Draco and Lily cozying. The Draco in the Head Boy's room raced over to the door and hurriedly closed it behind Remus. Remus examined the Draco in the Head Boy's Room. "So...which one's which?"

"I'm Draco," Draco stated. He nodded toward the door. "That's Prongs."

"Er...why is James in your body?" Remus inquired.

"I let him borrow it...wait...that sounded very wrong..."

"I get it. But, why?"

"Lily hates James's guts," Draco explained. "He's completely in love with her. So we thought that this might be a good chance for him to make her love him."

A slight smile crossed Remus's lips as he looked at Draco. "Well, I came in here to tell Prongs that I might have an idea for your final mission. But, I think, maybe you've already completed it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was going to have you mix up a potion. But, if you can make Lily and Prongs get together, then maybe you've done an even better thing."

"You're serious?"

"No, I'm Remus."

"Funny. Ha. Ha."

"Draco Aquilus, I think you've just become a Marauder."

* * *

During the winter break, I ended up with a milestone. "Why We Fight" (including the chapter after this and the incomplete chapter after that) is now over 50,000 words long, divided into 31 mostly-completed chapters, and 123 pages long (in 11-point Times New Roman on average typing paper).


	30. Here We Go A'Maraudering

Part 30:  
Here We Go A-Maraudering  
(Sunday, October 16, 1977)

Hermione looked around Professor Flaherty's office with curiosity. It wasn't quite what she was expecting, not that she really had any idea of what to expect. It didn't seem to...fit him. It was too...much. Professor Flaherty seemed to be a man of less-flashy tastes and seemed completely out of his element. He looked around the office, his nose wrinkling with distaste.

"I've only taken this job on a...temporary basis while Professor Slughorn is out and about rubbing elbows with famous people he claims he brought to greatness," the man said with great contempt. Hermione was put-off by his frankness and wasn't sure what to say. She didn't have to say anything, the professor continued. "I hear that you and Mister -- Malfoy, is it? -- have had a little potions mess-up."

"A **little** potions mess-up?" she cried. "We went into the past! Nineteen **years** in the past!"

Flaherty gave a bit of a shrug as he examined a rack of Potions ingredients. "Well, you could have ended up like others who have misused thistledown, thyme, and wolfbane. At least, you know where you are. Many people don't have that luxury. Although, I do find it rather strange that you came back to this era. Oftentimes, a Potion seems to choose certain years that have some connection to the people who blunder them."

"I'll have you know! I had nothing at **all** to do with the potion getting messed up! It was all Draco's fault, **he** wasn't paying attention..."

Flaherty looked at the dark-haired girl over his spectacles. "Then you should have paid attention for him, Miss Granger. That's the point of working with partners, to make sure that you both do your assignment properly." She tried to come up with a comment but couldn't. "Time is in constant fluctuation, believe it or not. Time mishaps happen all the time but no one really knows about them because they occur centuries beforehand and no one is alive to remember the original history. Which is why I say yours and Mr. Malfoy's situation is extremely unusual."

"Er...well, that's helpful," Hermione said.

"It most likely happened because something is meant to change and until that is met, then you will be unable to return to your own time."

"James and Lily," the former-prefect whispered.

"You must think before you act, Miss Granger. Time is a funny thing. There is destiny and there is fate. Destiny is something that you're **meant** to do, while fate is something you **must** do. Fate cannot be changed, no matter what anyone does; it **will** happen. You may come up with a million ways to change something, but if it is fated, then it will always end the same. Destiny, on the other hand, is constantly changing. Before you act on what you think you must do, think of the possible changes. Think of what would have happened if it hadn't happened. Things would be entirely different if they hadn't sacrificed their lives for Harry."

Hermione's eyes widened. "How'd you know about Harry?" she demanded.

A strange smile crossed the professor's lips. "Let's just say, you and Mr. Malfoy aren't the only ones out of your element here, Miss Granger. It's late, you should probably return to the Head House before curfew." The brunette left the professor's office with more questions than answers.

* * *

A couple of hours later, the Marauders gathered in James's room. The Head Boy was still grinning like a complete idiot from another successful date with Lily. Sirius was confused about the cold shoulder he'd gotten from Hermione when he'd tried to talk to her as she left the Head common room. "Well, due to Moony's decision to allow Draco here to join us without a fourth task--" James started.

"No, there **is** a fourth task in progress. The impossible one of getting our boy Prongs to hook up with the **lovely** Lily Evans," Sirius stated.

James pouted slightly. "Not impossible. **Improbable**." His hazel gaze turned to Draco. "It's time you learned our biggest secret. Wormtail, you're on."

"Do you solemnly swear, from this point on, to constantly be up to no good, Mr. Aquilus?" Peter asked. Draco frowned slightly as Peter's phrasing clicked. The parchment they'd given him had pretty much told him that much. His curiosity piqued and he wondered what Hermione had done with it.

"Mr. Wormtail, I solemnly swear to be constantly up to no good from this point on," Draco said.

"Mr. Aquilus, do you solemnly swear to apply the lessons to be learned here tonight to your daily life from this point on?" James asked.

"Mr. Prongs, I solemnly swear to apply the lessons learned here tonight to my daily life from this point on."

"Mr. Aquilus, do you solemnly swear that you will maintain the beliefs and lessons of the Marauders from this point on?" Sirius asked.

"Mr. Padfoot, I solemnly swear that I will maintain the beliefs and lessons of the Marauders from this point on."

"Mr. Aquilus, do you solemnly swear not to divulge any of the secrets you will learn here tonight from this point on?" Remus asked.

"Mr. Moony, I solemnly swear not to divulge any of the secrets I will learn here tonight from this point on."

"Well, that was rather fun," James said. He looked at the four other Marauders with a smirk. "Well, who's first?"

"Me. Me. Me," Peter chirped. James, Remus, and Sirius nodded and Peter began to transform. His tubby body compacted into a tinier, tubby body with gray fur, a long rat's nose, whiskers, and a long, bare tail. Peter Pettigrew had just turned into a rat. Draco watched with interest, wincing a bit as he remembered how painful Barty Crouch's forced Transfiguration on him had been. It hadn't seemed to hurt Peter at all and Draco wondered if it would hurt if he Transfigured himself.

"That's bloody amazing," Draco said and Wormtail squeaked with pleasure. It had taken him forever to finally figure out how to change and he was very proud that he had finally managed it.

James grinned and began to transform himself. Where James had stood, a beautiful stag now stood and Draco's eyes widened. "Prongs," he said. He had known what Sirius and Peter could transform into, but he'd never known about James's. Prongs bowed his head and Draco's eyes met the stag's soulful, hazel eyes.

There was a bark and Draco turned to see a large, black dog stood where Sirius had been. "A grim," he said with amusement. He looked to Moony. "What about you? What do you turn into?"

Moony's eyes widened. "Er...well...I can't really control **when** I change like Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail. I'm a werewolf." Draco nodded thoughtfully.

"So, does it hurt to, you know, change?" Draco asked.

"Well, it hurts me but not them," Moony said, nodding toward his Animagi friends.

Prongs had changed back. "We don't expect you to be able to transform any time soon, so don't feel bad about it," he said.

"Can I at least try?" Draco asked.

Padfoot had also changed back. "By all means, be our guest," he said with a bit of a smirk.

"Just think animal. Remember how you felt when you were a ferret," James suggested.

"You were a ferret?" Peter asked.

"Long story. One I'd rather not talk about. **Ever**," Draco said. _Okay, I can do this. Think animal. Concentrate on fierce and vicious. Maybe a dog?_ He looked at Sirius and Remus and decided against it. _I'm not rat material. So no rats for me. I really can't see myself as a stag either. Hmmm...what can I be?_ He decided not to think about it and just let his body decide for him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of what it had been like to be a ferret, how his body had changed to accommodate the forced Transfiguration. He started to feel smaller and, in no time, he peered up at the four other Marauders.

"Not fair," Peter whined. "It took me forever to get it right...and he gets it right the first day, the first time?"

"Well, he does have experience," James said with a bit of pride.

Sirius chuckled as he examined Draco's new form. "Well, **that's** certainly vicious."

Draco looked down and saw a fluffy white paw. _Oh, bloody hell! I'm not a ferret again am I?_ he thought. He looked to his friends and tried to ask. A mew came out. _Do ferrets mew?_ He pawed at the bathroom door and Peter opened it for him. Draco scrambled up to the sink and peered at his reflection in the mirror. Well, he wasn't a ferret. Draco stared at the mirror for the longest time. He pawed at the reflection. The reflection pawed back. Draco Malfoy had turned into a cat: a large, white, fluffy cat with silver eyes. Needless to say, he was disappointed. Couldn't he have been something like a hawk or an eagle or anything that wasn't remotely white and fluffy?

James, Peter, Remus, and Sirius joined him in the bathroom, and he saw their reflections in the mirror. "Well, I think I've got a good nickname for you now, mate," James said. "Whiskers." Draco cocked his head and thought it over. Whiskers wasn't exactly scary or anything, but he rather liked it. It was definitely better than "ferret." Sirius smirked at Draco's apparent acceptance of his new nickname.

"Ickle Whiskers," he taunted and Draco lashed out, clawing the Beater's hand causing blood to well from the scratches. "Bloody hell!" Sirius gingerly licked the blood away. "Okay, vicious enough." Draco gave the best, self-satisfied grin a cat could give.

"Out of the bathroom," Hermione called. "I'm coming in."

"Where's that Invisibility Cloak?" Sirius asked.

"Sorry, mate, but no peep show for you," James said as he led his friends out of the bathroom. Hermione locked both doors, not noticing the white cat in the sink. James looked around the Head Boy's Room. "Oi. Where's Whiskers?"

* * *

Hermione sighed with relief once the boys were out of the room and began to turn faucets in the Head Bathroom, the scent of roses filling the air and the pristine water of the pool-sized tub quickly foaming over with pink and white bubbles. The brunette untied the stays of her robe and Draco couldn't tear his eyes away. He actually **tried**. It wasn't because he was a gentleman. Far from it, he was a Malfoy and Malfoys were definitely **not** gentlemen. But it wasn't the Malfoys' decidedly un-gentlemanlike behavior that kept the cat's silver eyes glued to the form before him. It was the curiosity. What did Hermione look like under all those clothes? Draco found out in a few seconds.

The robe dropped off her shoulders and the cat got an eyeful of the girl's back. She had curves in all the right places and he suddenly developed an admiration for freckles due to the spots dappled all over her skin. Cat eyes trailed over the sensuous play of muscles dancing down her back as she let the robe drop, down to the round but supple rear end covered by royal blue silk panties, and down the shapely legs that looked a lot longer than usual. Draco had never really imagined Granger as the silk and satin type, more of the white cotton type. _Er...not that I've **ever** imagined her in any sort of nearly-undressed state, of course..._ he added mentally.

Hermione stretched out and looked over to the vanity where she had laid her clothes to double-check. She stretched out and Draco watched the way her matching bra moved with her. She reached behind her to undo her bra and tossed it atop the pile of clothes; the panties soon joined them and Draco was gifted with an uninterrupted view of her lovely derriere. He silently begged her to turn around. _No! Don't turn around! Stay put!_ he thought.

He usually wasn't the type to spy on naked girls (he left that to Crabbe and Goyle) but once the scraps of silk had been removed, his eyes were glued and there was no way that he could ever tear them away from the shapely form in front of him. Hermione slid into the water and, in this, she revealed her profile. The cat swallowed hard as he caught sight of her breasts, also smattered with freckles. Her stomach wasn't flat and, according to magazines featuring stick figures for models, she was fat. Draco definitely didn't believe that. She was the most beautiful female he'd seen naked this close before. _Er...no, no, no, she wasn't. She's **Granger**, Mudblood, Know-it-All with a lovely...no, no, bad thoughts don't go there,_ he thought.

Her bath took an hour and the cat didn't remove his eyes from her once. He truly felt like a pervert after all this, but he couldn't stop looking. When it was finally over, Hermione yawned and got dressed in white cotton underclothes and pajamas decorated with moving stars and moons. Once she was clothed, she grabbed her toothpaste and toothbrush and walked over to the sink where the cat had been hiding all this time. The cat ducked lower in the sink's bowl but let out a yowl as the girl let the water flow over him.

Hermione stared at the white, wet cat that occupied her sink with confusion and gingerly lifted him free. "Where'd you come from, little one?" she asked, examining him. He mewed as she pulled him close and began to stroke his soggy fur. He tried, he really did, but he couldn't prevent the purr from starting. "Yes, you're such a pretty kitty, aren't you?" He hissed at the remark. "Okay, not so pretty, then. Do you have a name?" The cat batted his whiskers with a pink-padded paw. "Whiskers? Is that your name?" The cat nodded and Hermione was impressed. "You're a very smart kitty, aren't you?"

The cat gave the best grin he could manage in his feline form. She grabbed her robe and discarded clothes and headed into the Head Girl's Room. Lily was sitting on her bed reading but looked up at Hermione's entrance. She cocked her head and eyed the cat. "Where'd that come from?"

"I'm not sure. The cat was in the bathroom," the brunette replied, stroking Draco between his ears and eliciting another purr.

"The cat watched you take a bath?" Lily asked.

"It's just a cat," Hermione stated, depositing said creature on her bed. "And look at him, he's so **cute**." The cat hissed.

"It's cute all right," the redhead said at the cat's response.

"He doesn't like to be patronized." She retrieved her journal and a quill once more and stared at the blank pages for what seemed like hours but still couldn't come up with something to tell her friends. He read the following page curiously and found himself disappointed when it was just a little letter back home. Where were Hermione Granger's darkest secrets?

It took forever for the two girls to finally fall asleep and, once they were sleeping soundly, Draco looked around curiously as he remembered the parchment Hermione had taken from him. He peered down into the drawer of her bedside table which was open a crack and maneuvered his paw into the crack. He pulled the drawer open fully and examined the drawer's contents. He batted aside the journal Hermione had written in and found the parchment. He slid into the drawer and took the parchment into his mouth, wincing at its taste. It took him a few moments to figure out how to get out of the drawer with the parchment in his mouth.

He crept across the room, dropped the parchment, and bounded atop the table by the door. He jumped onto the doorknob and managed to twist it a bit before his pads lost traction and he fell onto his back. _I thought cats were bloody well supposed to land on their feet,_ he thought, annoyed. He tried again and fell once more. _Things are a lot easier with opposable thumbs._ The third time was a charm and the door opened slightly. He squirmed out of the Head Girl's Room before ducking in once more to retrieve the parchment.

Once in the relative safety of the Head Common Room, Draco tried to transform back. He tried to picture himself as a human again but with no luck. He then realized that he had never really learned to turn back. The cat padded across the room, stood on his back legs, and clawed at the Head Boy's door. He mewled and yowled, scratching the door. The door finally opened and a groggy-looking James answered the door. He looked down at the cat with the parchment in his mouth. "Took you bloody long enough." Draco glared at James as best his feline eyes could. "Couldn't figure out how to change back, eh? Come on, then." He gestured for the cat to follow him into the room. The cat entered the Head Boy's Room and the door closed behind him.

On the other side of the Head Common Room, a brunette with hair mussed from sleep stood in the Head Girl's Room, peering out the door. Hermione paled as she realized where the cat had come from. It was Draco--**bloody**--Malfoy. He'd turned himself into a cat and had gotten into the Head Bathroom. How much had he seen? Had he watched her? Oh...she **really** was going to kill him...or, at least, hurt him **a lot**.

* * *

Once Draco was safely ensconced in the Head Boy's Room, James, Sirius, and Remus had taught him to change back into a human. It had took him a lot longer to master becoming human again than it had for him to initially master the feat of becoming Whiskers. By three in the morning, he had **finally** figured out how to turn back into his human self. At this, he was confronted by Sirius.

"You spied on my girlfriend," the larger, dark-haired boy growled.

"Not **intentionally**!" the blonde said, backing away from him.

"Did you see anything?" Peter asked. Draco's blush gave it away and he quickly tried to drain the offending blood from his face. "You did...what was it like?"

Remus simply watched Sirius's testosterone-fest with scientific interest as the Beater turned on their round friend with murder in his eyes. "Er...Wormtail...you really shouldn't ask those questions..." James interjected.

Remus decided to leave the scientific approach for later. "Look, Padfoot, it was an accident. And, in all fairness, Hermione **was** Draco's girlfriend before the two of you started dating. It's not like he saw anything he hadn't seen before."

_Yeah right,_ Draco thought. _I've seen plenty of girls naked. But never Hermione Granger, never Harry Potter's best mate, never a Muggle-born know-it-all...never anyone who had looked quite as good..._ his thoughts trailed off. _Aw, fuck! Why am I thinking about that Mudblood like that? Maybe I really should go talk to Flaherty about fixing this bloody mess._ His silver eyes bounced over his fellow Marauders and felt a pang of despair at the possible thought of leaving the only friends he'd really known. _No, I'll take my chances on dirty thoughts on Granger. I mean, it's not like they really mean anything..._

James took the parchment that Whiskers had deposited onto the floor of the Head Boy's Room. He tapped his wand on the parchment. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said. Draco looked at the parchment James held and was amazed to see a map of Hogwarts. "Get me a quill, Wormtail." Peter retrieved a quill and handed it to James. "Time to make your mark." He quickly jabbed the quill into the pad of Draco's forefinger, drawing a surprised yelp from the blonde. "You're sealing it in blood. Like...blood-brothers."

Draco took the quill and wrote "Whiskers" on the map. The map went blank before resetting itself. Now it read:

_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Whiskers  
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers  
are proud to present_  
THE MARAUDER'S MAP

A smile quirked Draco's lips as he examined the intricate map that now bore his new Marauder name and felt a swell of pride. He **finally** belonged somewhere...

* * *

Tuesday, October 15, 1996

Ron sighed as he stared at the Marauder's Map for any sign whatsoever of Hermione. He and Harry had been sharing the responsibility since she'd disappeared. He had a feeling that the professors knew more than they were letting on, but he couldn't prove it. The map went blank before resetting. With confusion, Ron reread the map to find a strange, new name on the familiar parchment. "Er...Harry...who's Whiskers?"


	31. Whiskers Meets His Match

Part 31:  
Whiskers Meets His Match  
(Monday, October 17, 1977)

Draco grunted as he was shoved against the hard, cold, stone wall by a beautiful girl. Normally, this would have been a welcome experience that would lead to a great deal of fun. But, alas, this definitely was **not** a normal experience for the beautiful girl who had him shoved against the wall was a petite, very angry, bushy-haired brunette with murder in her honey-brown eyes.

"You. Spied. On. Me," she bit out. Draco stared down at the girl, swallowing hard. She was really attractive when she was angry. This train of thought was derailed when said girl grabbed him by his scarlet-and-gold tie and jerked him forward before slamming his head against the wall once more for good measure.

"**OW**! Bloody hell, Granger!" he cried out, rubbing the back of his white-blond head.

"You nasty little ferret! You watched me take a bath!" she growled.

"It was an accident, I swear!" Draco insisted. "You actually think I **wanted** to see you naked?"

She let go of his tie, her eyes widening and their chocolate depths glistening with tears. "Am I ugly or something?"

_Women! Damned irrational creatures!_ he thought. "Er...no...of course not..." he stammered. There was a long moment in which a blush rose in the girl's cheeks.

"Um...right...awkward," she stated, backing up as she realized just how close she was to her enemy. The boy looked around, searching for an escape route.

Finally, he murdered the awkward silence that had encompassed them. "I'm not a ferret," he said, under his breath, "I'm a cat."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah...and you're going to show me how...Whiskers," she stated.

"I can't guarantee anything," he replied. "I mean, you have to be in touch with your inner beast."

Hermione giggled at his comment. "Your inner beast is a white, fluffy kitty-cat?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. "Tell no one."

"Your secret's safe with me," she said, trying her hardest to not grin. "So...when do we want to start?"

"After classes, Room of Requirement," he suggested. She nodded.

"You're on."

* * *

(Tuesday, October 25, 1977)

"This is impossible!" Hermione fumed. They'd spent five hours a day in the Room of Requirement for the past week. Draco was draped over the arm of an overstuffed, green velvet armchair looking bored. Hermione stopped trying to "get in touch with her inner-animal" and stared at him for a moment. The blonde eyebrows rose as their owner caught the girl looking at him.

Hermione blushed furiously and once again tried to "get in touch with her inner animal" and once again failed, eliciting a smirk from the newest Marauder. She glared at him, very annoyed and extremely bitter that -- for the very first time -- Draco could do something better than she could. "It's **really** easy," Draco drawled, taking on the now-familiar form of Whiskers for the seventh time that night alone. Hermione held back the pressing urge to draw her wand and cast a few hexes on the smug-looking, fluffy, white cat.

_You can do this, Hermione,_ she told herself. _You can make a Paladin, can't you? Something that Remus said was extremely rare...rarer than becoming an Animagus. You're rarer than an Animagus; this is easy. Just become an animal._

Her point of view changed and she felt much shorter. The look of disappointment on Draco's face was enough to make her realize that she'd finally accomplished what she thought impossible. "Nice set of hooters..." Draco drawled. Hermione's feathers ruffled in anger. _Wait...feathers? Hooters...I'm an owl?_

"Now to become human again..." He didn't have time to continue, Hermione was human again in a matter of seconds. He glared at her, but took some satisfaction that it had taken him merely a few moments to become a cat.

"So, I'm an owl," she said.

"Yes, you are," he replied.

Brown eyes narrowed. "Don't think you're off the hook. You spied on me when I was naked," she stated. "It's just rude...I never spied on **you** when you were naked."

A smirk quirked his lips. "Do you want to?"

Hermione blushed. "Of course not!" she squealed. She left the Room of Requirement, feeling a rush of pride. She'd done it. She'd just become an Animagus. She was still grinning like an idiot when she ran into Sirius (for one of the first times since they'd met, figuratively), whom she'd done her best to avoid for the past week. Her eyes widened as she looked at the dark-haired boy. "Er...hi, Sirius."

"Hello, Hermione," he stated, looking at her with a frown.

"So...er...what're you doing here?" she asked.

"I could ask the same about you," he replied.

"I was studying," she replied. She frowned, eyes narrowing as she examined the vibrant youth so unlike his future self. She felt a twinge of guilt for just avoiding him like this and she **had** been trying to find out a way to break it to him easily but she wasn't really quite sure **how** she could. "Look, Sirius, I know I've been avoiding you lately...but things are just really...difficult right now. Believe me, it's entirely **not** you and definitely, entirely **me** me. And that's just not something that I'm saying to get rid of you, but this is really not the right...er...**time**...for a relationship, but I'd still like to be friends..."

* * *

The five Marauders sat in the Head Boy's room. "She gave you the 'it's not you, it's me' speech?" Remus asked, wincing as he shoved a hand through his sandy hair.

"Ouch," Peter replied. "I mean, that's the kiss of death. That and 'let's still be friends.'"

Sirius groaned and dropped his head hard on James's pillow. "She said that, too," he stated. "I've heard of that before. You know the 'let's still be friends' and the 'it's not you, but me' thing...but I never expected it to happen to **me**. I mean, girls...girls...they **adore** me. I mean, I have to fight them off sometimes..."

"And you're **so** modest," Draco drawled.

"I am...I mean. I have a fan club, did you know that?" Sirius stated.

Peter nodded. "It's true. There are ten girls in it."

"All Hufflepuffs, I bet," Draco stated.

"And then there's Hermione. She's beautiful, sweet, incredibly intelligent, with a wicked sense of humor, and those eyes...bloody hell, they're like...like...I don't know what they're like but they're amazing..."

Draco arched a brow. "They're **brown**," he stated. Then he secretly cursed himself for actually knowing what color her eyes were.

"Yes...brown...brown like chocolate...rich, melted chocolate..." Sirius stated. James and Draco exchanged a look.

"Or mud," Draco stated under his breath.

"Okay, this is getting kind of disturbing," Remus stated. "Padfoot, you **never** pine over girls. You break their hearts and make them cry. Remember that time you broke that girl's heart and she hexed you?"

"Which girl?" Sirius asked.

"Exactly. **Several** girls have hexed you," Remus replied.

"Oh, and that one time on the Hogwarts Express when Wilhemina Brocklehurst and Queenie Greengrass cursed you at the same time with the -- uh, what was it? -- I think they hit you with that boil curse and the Jelly-Legs Jinx at the same time, you had tentacles sprouting out all over..."

Draco winced, remembering his own experience with that happening on the way home from his fourth year and Sirius didn't even react. "Don't you think that maybe you're a little old for her?" James inquired.

"I'm **ten** months older than she is," Sirius stated. "It's not exactly the biggest age gap in the history of humanity. I mean, my mum's four years older than my dad."

"Have you thought that maybe she has a lot on her plate right now?" James suggested.

"There's always room for dessert," Sirius said with a sigh.

"Okay, Padfoot, you're going to make me sick," Draco stated. "I really, really, **really** don't want to think of you and Hermione like that."


	32. Concerning Matters of Mischief

Part 32:  
Concerning Matters of Mischief  
(Wednesday, October 26, 1977-Thursday, October 27, 1977)

Sirius, James, Peter, and Draco hid on the edge of the Forbidden Forest watching as Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore smuggled a form covered with a blanket toward the wildly-whipping limbs of the Whomping Willow. With a quickness that was surprising for one so large, the Keeper of the Keys darted to the tree's twisted trunk and pressed the secret knot. Draco watched with amazement as the thrashing limbs stilled and Remus crawled into the secret passage that was carefully hidden by the roots. Hagrid leapt out of the way just as the limbs came back to life. The elderly professor and the half-giant went their separate ways; Hagrid to his hut, Dumbledore to the castle.

Once satisfied that the coast was clear, the four made their way to the Whomping Willow. In a few moments' time, James, a dog, a rat, and a cat stood where the four had been. The rat wormed his way up the tree to press the knot and the three others clambered down the tunnel to follow Remus, Sirius closest to the werewolf.

As soon as Remus and Padfoot were out of the way, James transformed into Prongs and followed the tunnel. Whiskers and Wormtail followed the stag. Draco's curiosity had been piqued when he'd found that today would be his first full moon adventure with the Marauders and he felt good about keeping his new friends company. Imagine that, **he** -- Draco Lucien Malfoy -- was feeling good about helping someone else. He was really going to get disowned but, strangely enough, he could care less.

The tunnel angled up and ended in a battered, old house. Remus had transformed into his wolf form and his clothes lay high on a dresser where the wolf couldn't get them. Whiskers looked around, examining the furniture that was in various states of destruction. Suddenly, it clicked. He was in the Shrieking Shack and the stories of ghosts finally seemed to make sense. Nothing like four wild animals running around a dilapidated old house to stir up ideas of ghosts and ghoulies haunting the place. His whiskers twitched with amusement as he watched Padfoot and Moony chase one-another in circles while Prongs supervised the goings-on with Wormtail perched on his antlers.

The two canines seemed to be having a lot of fun so Whiskers decided to join in. He shoved his nose against Padfoot's side, tagging him. It didn't take long for the two canines to understand what was going on and soon the three of them were playing tag. Growing bored with that, Padfoot tagged Prongs and soon the stag and the rat joined in on the fun. They played for hours, strange how simple, childish games could become fun again once a person became an animal. Who knew, maybe next time they'd step it up to hide-and-go-seek.

* * *

As dawn's early light filtered through the tattered curtains that dangled precariously over filthy windows, Moony's fur retracted and a sleeping, nude teenager was in his place. Remus stretched out, yawning, he ruffled his mussed, sandy hair again and looked around at his friends; Wormtail, Whiskers, and Padfoot were still in their animal forms, passed out. He chuckled as he noticed Whiskers and Padfoot snuggled together. Oh, he'd have to remember that to hold over their heads once they woke up.

He yawned again, scratching his stomach lightly before walking to the dresser on which he'd placed his clothes. He stood on tiptoes to retrieve them and dressed. The sandy-haired youth crossed the battered planks to where his friends lay snoring. He toed Padfoot awake and the dog jumped up with a yelp as soon as he realized he was wound around a fluffy, white, silver-eyed cat. Quickly, an annoyed-looking dark-haired youth was in the dog's place. "Tell no one," Sirius stated menacingly.

Remus bit back a smirk. "Your secret's safe with me," he stated.

Blearily, silver eyes opened and examined the room, a fanged mouth yawned wide, showing a rough, pink tongue, and Whiskers stretched out with the boneless grace that only felines possessed. Whiskers did a bit more preening before changing back into his human form. Remus rolled his eyes. "You're really taking this cat thing to heart, aren't you, Whiskers?" the werewolf stated.

The blonde made a face at the older boy and caused Sirius to smirk. The three looked around for a moment before they finally found James snoring away on a sofa that had seen better days a century ago with Wormtail curled up on his softly-rising-and-falling chest. "Aw...they're so cute, I can hardly bear the thought of waking them," Sirius said with a teasing grin.

"You may not be able to, but I can. Prongs, wakey-wakey; it's a beautiful day, the birds are singing, squirrels are up in the trees making lots of rotten, little squirrels..." Draco said.

One hazel eye opened just enough to cast a glare at the blonde. Slowly, James awoke, reaching to adjust his glasses that were askew on his face. He lifted the sleeping rat and beady, little eyes opened. "That's right, Wormtail," he said. "Time to get up." James sat up on the sofa, wincing as a spring poked him. He deposited Wormtail on the sofa's cushion and stood, stretching out.

Wormtail quickly transformed and looked to his friends. "What time is it?" the pudgy youth yawned.

Remus looked at his watch. "It's, uh, six-thirty," he stated. "We've got class in at nine."

"And you woke us up **this** early?" Draco asked, pushing his sleep-mussed hair out of his face.

"Well, it takes Padfoot and Prongs this long to get ready," Remus replied with a teasing grin.

Sirius muttered a few choice phrases under his breath that caused his fellow Marauders to grin. He yawned and stretched out and headed toward the secret passageway, followed by James, Remus, Draco, and Peter. They took the passageway in companionable silence and Peter turned into his rat form to attack the knot that froze the Whomping Willow. The Marauders exited the passageway and blinked against the early morning light, the drops of dew glistening in the sunlight. The sparkling dewdrops were blindingly bright and Draco squinted against them. "It's too bright," he mumbled. "Too early. I'm a creature of the night..."

"Stuff it, Whiskers," Sirius stated, swallowing a yawn.

* * *

The greasy-haired, pallid youth was curled up in an armchair in front of a roaring fire that couldn't sap the cold moisture from the air. A textbook was laid across his lap, the margins black with cramped writing, a quill dangling from his ink-blackened fingers, and a bottle of black ink sitting haphazardly on the edge of the textbook. He snored softly through his hooked nose which was dappled with a bit of the ink, having fallen asleep in the common room. A hand landed on his shoulder and the boy awakened with a start, dropping the quill and spilling the ink all over his much-written in textbook. Severus Snape glared at the textbook and removed the spilled ink with a cry of _Evanesco_.

His cry of outrage was cut short by the hand's sharp nails biting into his shoulder through his robes; a long-fingered hand with pale skin and talon-like nails belonging to an older gentleman with maroon eyes and black hair graying at the temples. Severus's eyes widened with terror, the Dark Mark crawling on his left forearm as he realized he was looking at the Dark Lord. "M--my Lord," he stammered.

"The Dark Lord is displeased with you," the cold, dead voice said, sending Severus's insides crawling along with the mark permanently etched in his skin. Severus's heart pounded painfully, tattooing against his ribs; he knew at this moment that he was going to die.

The pale skin took on an olive tone, hair lengthening and darkening, brown eyes staring from a high-cheekboned face. The Dark Lord had turned into Rastaban Lestrange's current form of Damian Faust. Faust took a seat in the armchair beside Severus, chuckling.

Severus clenched his well-worn textbook, debating on whether or not to use the spell that he had just added to the various spells and Potions instructions that covered the margins on the younger Lestrange. "Are you insane?" Severus hissed, his knuckles whiter than usual due to the death grip he held on his book. Faust's full lips turned into a mockery of a smile. "Why, yes," he stated with a bit of a hiss, "but I don't see what that matters right now..."

"Anyone could have seen you l--like that!"

"You and I both know that Slytherins are creatures of the night," he said. "Never awakening this early." Severus decided not to point out that both he and Faust were Slytherins and were awake that early.

"You have displeased the Dark Lord, Snape," Faust stated. "You have a mission, a very important mission, one that you have not worked on since you were given it."

Severus's nails bit into the book's binding. "I **have** been working on it," he growled. "In case you haven't noticed, Miss **de Lioncourt** has been spending all of her time with her new boyfriend, Sirius Black. The girl is not good enough for the Dark Lord."

Faust's eyes narrowed in anger. "Do you **dare** question the Dark Lord?"

The youth's dark eyes widened and his pale skin became even paler under the man's gaze. "N--no, sir, I would **never** doubt the Dark Lord..." he stated.

There was a long moment where Severus and Faust stared into one another's eyes until Faust finally looked away. "You **will** complete your mission, Snape, or you will regret...everything," Faust said with a hint of a wicked grin.

The man left the Slytherin common room with a swish of his midnight-black robes. At that moment, Severus made a decision. He carefully closed his book, gently put into his book bag, and stood up slowly. He pulled on his book bag and headed out the portrait hole guarded by the Dark Knight.

* * *

"We need to talk," a voice came and Hermione turned to see its source. Draco, his silver eyes bloodshot, and skin pale with dark circles under his eyes, slumped into the seat opposite Hermione. Hermione couldn't suppress a bit of a smirk.

"Have a long night?" she questioned, brown eyes dancing with merriment.

He glared at her. "I want to ask you about that picture," he said.

"What picture?" Hermione asked evasively.

"The one you showed me the first day we got here," he stated.

"How do I know you're really **you** and not...James?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't tell Prongs about the picture, but if you must, quiz me about...well...me."

Hermione frowned thoughtfully, unsure for once in her life. If this was really Draco, how could she tell? There was no telling how much Draco had told him about himself. "What do my friends look like?" she asked.

"Your friends? Oh, you mean Potter and the Weasel? Um, Potter looks like his dad except for his eyes -- he has Lily's eyes and that lovely little scar on his forehead. Do I really have to talk about Weasel, Granger?" She gave him a look and he groaned softly. "Weasel looks like a freak; stretched to the point of absurdity. Long nose, freckles, and that Weasley hair."

Hermione stared at him for a moment more, pursing her lips at his unfriendly description of Ron. She looked around slowly to make certain they were really alone and then retrieved the photograph of the Order of the Phoenix that Moody had given her and carefully laid it on the table before them. Draco stared at the picture for a long moment.

Lily and James were sitting together, arms wound around each other, grinning, very much in love, and Lily's stomach was slightly rounded with the beginnings of a baby bump. Sirius sat beside James, reclining on the stairs, his black hair pulled away from his face in a ponytail, gray eyes shining with the ever-present hint of mischief that was his trademark, and a broad grin splitting his handsome face. Remus sat on Sirius's other side; he was slightly older than the teenager that Draco knew with a hint of gray in his sandy brown hair and a bemused look on his handsome if not tired-looking face. Peter sat on Moony's other side, a weak smile on his rat-like face, watery blue eyes looking around. Then there were many people that Draco didn't know and he looked at Hermione for answers.

Hermione swallowed hard and thought about what she'd overheard from Moody when he'd first given the picture to Harry. "Well, I guess I can name the survivors first. Professor Dumbledore of course, Elphias Doge, Professor Moody, Hagrid, Remus," she said. As she said their names, the person moved to the forefront and gave a little wave. Draco smiled slightly as Remus waved. "And those who didn't make it." She swallowed past the emotion constriction in her throat. Most of the people she had never met, never seen before this one picture, but it didn't matter. They were gone and she'd never really get the chance.

"Edgar Bones, killed by Death Eaters with most of his family; he's Susan Bones's uncle." Edgar Bones smiled at them. "Caradoc Dearborn, he disappeared six months after this picture was taken and his body was never found." Caradoc seemed to be in a conversation with another man as his name was mentioned and Hermione introduced the man that Caradoc was talking to. "Benjy Fenwick, he was killed by Death Eaters and only bits of him were found." Draco paled slightly at this. "Marlene McKinnon, killed by Death Eaters two weeks after this picture was taken." A squat but pretty woman beamed up at them. "Dorcas Meadowes, killed by Voldemort himself." Draco stiffened at the name. "Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Mrs. Weasley's younger brothers, it took five Death Eaters to kill them." Draco stared at the two young, vibrant red-haired men with shock and a hint of respect. "You know what happened to Lily, James, and Wormtail." Draco swallowed hard, staring at the happy couple and their mousy friend. "Sirius Black, killed on June 20, 1996, in the Ministry of Magic by your aunt Bellatrix."

Draco looked somewhat ashamed and then frowned as he noticed that Hermione hadn't mentioned a couple. "Who are they?"

"Another couple of your Aunt Bellatrix's casualties. They're not dead; it's worse. She, your uncle Rodolphus, your uncle's brother Rastaban, and Bartemius Crouch Jr. tortured them into insanity with the Cruciatus. They're alive and they live in St. Mungo's, unable to speak, unable to recognize their own son when he visits over the Christmas holidays," she stated, tears glistening in her brown eyes.

Draco stared at the kindly, round-faced woman and felt sick to his stomach. He knew that face. "N--Neville," he stammered as he remembered how the mousy-haired boy had charged him after he mentioned St. Mungo's last year.

"Yes," Hermione said. "These are his parents, Frank and Alice Longbottom. They were Aurors."

"Before my aunt got to them," he spat. "They're why we fight."

"'We'?" Hermione questioned.

Silver eyes met warm brown ones. "We," he said simply.

* * *

Severus Snape examined the gargoyle, debating on whether to continue. The gargoyle examined him in return. "Professor Dumbledore is expecting you," the statue stated, leaping aside to reveal a spiral staircase. The dark-haired youth swallowed hard and moved to the slowly-moving spiral staircase. 


	33. Revelations

Part 33:  
Revelations  
(Thursday, October 27, 1977 -- Continued...)

The higher the spiral staircase seemed to take him, the lower his stomach got. By the time Severus had arrived in the tower Headmaster's Office, he was certain that his stomach was somewhere in the vicinity of the first floor. The black-haired youth swallowed hard as the spiral staircase finally stopped and looked around the Headmaster's office with interest, noticing the portraits snoozing on the walls. There was a table in front of the Headmaster's desk covered with spindly silver objects, and Severus stared at them with confusion, trying to figure out what they were.

"Well, go on!" a nasty-looking, sallow-skinned fellow cried from one of the portraits.

"That's quite enough, Phineas," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"I, um, I need to talk to you," Severus stated. "About Hermione de Lioncourt."

"And just what would you like say about Miss de Lioncourt?" Dumbledore inquired.

* * *

James and Remus stared at Draco and Hermione in shock; James looked pale. They'd been heading toward their N.E.W.T. Arithmancy class when they'd overheard the conversation. Professor Agnosco be damned; they needed to know what was going on. "What the hell are you talking about?" Remus demanded.

Hermione's eyes widened and she moved to shove the picture back into her bag, but Remus was too quick. He snatched the picture from Hermione and stared at it; James peered over his shoulder at it as well. In the picture, James and Lily were cuddling and every once in a while, James's hand would slide to her stomach to caress the baby bump. Remus blinked, staring from James and Lily to Peter to Sirius to himself.

"What happens to me?" James asked, and Hermione refused to look at him.

"You live happily ever after--" Draco started.

"The truth this time," James said.

"Y--you die," Draco managed.

"And Lily?" he asked.

"She gets widowed," Hermione put in.

James didn't reply. He simply stared at the somewhat older version of himself, snuggled contentedly with his crush, his future wife. He brushed one of his calloused fingers over the image of Lily and she grinned. "So...that's Harry?"

Remus looked to James and then back to Draco and Hermione. "Who's...your friend, Harry!?" he demanded. "Where did you get this?"

James exchanged a look with Draco and Hermione. "We're from the future," Draco said before Hermione could react.

"**DRACO**!" Hermione hissed. "We talked about this."

"And I told you it was a stupid idea!"

"We can't change the future!" she growled.

"Oh, and you didn't change the future by snogging Padfoot?" he demanded, surprised by the sudden bit of jealousy that had entered his voice. _No, no, I do **not** like Granger! She's a Mudblood know-it-all,_ he thought.

Hermione blushed brilliantly. "It's none of your business **who** I snog, Draco Malfoy."

"**MALFOY**!?" Remus demanded. "And you knew all about this?" He asked this question of James.

"Yeah," James admitted.

"About your death?" Remus asked, swallowing hard.

"No...that comes as a bit of a shock," James stated. He looked pointedly at the two time-travelers. "Actually, a rather large shock."

Draco looked away, his pale skin growing paler. Hermione swallowed hard. "We--we wanted to tell you, but we couldn't," she replied.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it: the future," James said.

"James, you can't be thinking..." Remus trailed off as James refused to meet his eyes. "No. They're obviously here for a reason. You can't..." His golden eyes widened as he looked at the picture once again, the conversation replaying in his mind. "P--Peter...Sirius...oh, God, Sirius, too?" He sank into one of the squashy red loveseats. "No. This isn't happening!" Tears shone in his eyes. "This isn't happening."

James sat beside him. "Moony..." he started, moving a hand to Remus's shoulder.

Remus shoved away from James. "You may be all content to die, but what about them, Prongs!?" he demanded. "What about Padfoot and Wormtail!?" He looked to Draco and Hermione. "How'd it happen? Why am I the only one left?"

"R--Remus," Hermione started. "We can't--!"

"Voldemort," was Draco's answer and Hermione could see the flash of terror in his silver eyes as he mentioned his father's master. "He killed Prongs...and Wormtail..." he trailed off. True, Peter wasn't dead. He wasn't the same person and that could also be blamed on Voldemort. "And B--Bellatrix killed Padfoot."

"Voldemort?" there was a touch of bravado in James's voice. "I can handle him."

"Are you completely and utterly insane?!" Remus demanded. "Did you not hear what he did to these people!?" He gestured wildly toward the picture he still held. "And did you fail to understand the fact that he **kills** you!?"

A darkness passed over James's face and Hermione was struck by just how much he looked like his son at that moment. Draco moved to speak but Hermione silenced him with a glare. James stared at Draco and Hermione. "What does--did--**will** Voldemort want with me?"

"I have no idea," Hermione said with a sigh.

Draco swallowed hard. "'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies,'" Draco said.

"Thrice defied," James said, impressed. "Guess fourth time isn't the charm." Remus looked sick at James's attempt at gallows humor.

Hermione stared at Draco, stunned, and ignored James's comment. "W--what?"

"That's why V--Voldemort was after James...because of Harry," Draco stated.

"Where'd you hear that!?" Hermione demanded.

"Father," Draco stated.

"Your father...you mean Lucius," Remus growled. "And your aunt...Bellatrix. You're Narcissa's son." Even in his righteous outrage, he couldn't suppress a shudder at Narcissa's apparent infatuation with her future son. "Your mum wants to...that's disgusting!"

"Yes, alright, fine! My mum wants to do me!" Draco cried. Sirius and Peter chose that moment to walk in.

"Sounds like a personal problem to me," Peter said.

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Well...that--that's interesting and definitely gives a new meaning to 'family togetherness,'" he stated.

"Oh, yeah, well, your parents are cousins," Draco sniffed.

Remus moved to talk to Peter and Sirius and James grabbed his shoulder. "Can you give us a second? We were finishing something up," the black-haired boy told Peter and Sirius.

"Oh, right, fine, I know when I'm not wanted," Sirius said, dragging Peter out behind him.

"Put your hand out, Moony," James ordered.

"What?" he demanded.

"You heard me," he stated. "Put your hand out." Warily, Remus put out his hand. "You're going to swear an Unbreakable Vow."

"Prongs!" Remus cried.

"You're going to," James said. "If you've **ever** been my friend, then you **will** do this." Remus swallowed hard, his hand trembling as he took James's hand. "You two will be the Bonders."

"Both of them!?" Remus demanded.

"Making sure you can't get out of this, Moony," James replied. Draco's hand was trembling as he pressed his wand against the joined hands and Hermione did the same. The blonde spoke the incantation and the wands glowed red. "Do you swear that you will **not** tell **anyone** at all about the death of James 'Prongs' Potter until after it has happened?"

"Y--yes," Remus stated, closing his eyes against the fresh tears. Red flames spat from the wands of Draco and Hermione and wound around Remus and James's hands.

"Do you swear not to tell S--Sirius 'Padfoot' Black about his death?"

Remus swallowed hard and paled more, his hand visibly trembling. "Yes." More flames.

"Do you swear not to tell Peter 'W--Wormtail' Pettigrew about his death?"

"Yes," Remus groaned. The last spurts of flame encircled their hands and the Unbreakable Vow was complete.

* * *

Severus paced the Headmaster's office nervously as he tried to come up with the proper words to say; Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes watched him while Phineas Nigellus Black was looking rather annoyed. "Blast it! Stop that bloody pacing!" the former Headmaster proclaimed.

With a glare at the portrait, Severus was less-than-delighted to find out that Sirius Black's ancestor was as much as a prat as his descendant. "T--The Dark Lord, he wants Hermione," Severus finally stated.

"You mean Voldemort?" Dumbledore inquired.

Severus stiffened at the mention of his new master's name. "I--I joined them. I know I shouldn't have...now. B--But I just wanted to belong," he stammered, shoving his lank hair out of his pale face.

Dumbledore nodded. "Ah, yes, the need to belong is a very prominent feeling," he said.

"Professor Faust isn't who you think he is," Severus stated.

"He isn't Rastaban Lestrange?" Dumbledore asked. Severus's brow wrinkled at the man's omniscience.

"H--how'd you--?"

"I know a great many things, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore replied. "But the most important thing right now is to protect yourself. Voldemort is a very accomplished Legelimens as you have no doubt figured out by now." Severus shuddered at the memory of the Dark Lord's invasion when he had first become a Death Eater. "And you must learn to shield yourself."

* * *

"Oh, well, I'm going to be late for class," James said suddenly. The three stared at him, astonished.

"You can't be serious!" Remus cried.

"No, I'm James," James said.

"Okay, that joke's getting old," Hermione stated with a roll of her eyes.

"You just found out you're going to get killed and you're just going to...to go on like nothing has happened?" Remus demanded.

"Moony, if I live every day in fear, then that's no life," he stated. "I know what's going to happen and I've accepted it. Oh, bugger, forgot my Polyjuice." He went back into the Head Boy's room. Draco's silver eyes widened with surprise, and he looked from Hermione and Remus to the closed door. He was at a complete loss of words. People shouldn't react like that to the news of their death.

A few moments later, James came back out in Draco's skin. "Better hurry up there, Whiskers," he stated. "You've got class." James-in-Draco's-body exited the Head common room.

"How--how can he just do that?" the werewolf asked.

"Shock," she said. "Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance."

"What?" Remus demanded.

"The stages of grief," Hermione replied. "He's in shock." She stared at the picture Remus still held with sorrow.

"All this time you've known and you didn't tell?" Remus demanded.

"No. I didn't," the brunette said. "For the very reason you've given me. Life is short, James...his life is shorter than...than it should be, but there's a reason for it. There's a--a reason for everything. He shouldn't have to spend his--his life looking over his shoulder wondering if today's the day he's going to die!"

"How can there be a reason for him to die?" the sandy-haired boy demanded.

"You want to know? You **really** want to know the truth? For God's sake, it's not like we haven't messed up the time continuum enough as it is," she growled, digging into her satchel and pulling out a picture of her with Ron, Ron's family, and Harry at the World Quidditch Cup. "That's why. James died to save his son, his **only** son. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. They died so that others could live." She grabbed her satchel and left the room in a huff.

Remus stared at the picture that Hermione had withdrawn from her satchel. Harry James Potter looked identical to his father except for Lily's eyes and an odd lightning-bolt-shaped scar peeking from under his perpetually-messy hair.

* * *

As James lie down to sleep that night, he grinned. He'd just spent another glorious day with Lily Evans, his future wife. He felt a thrill go through him at the thought. He would marry Lily, they would have a son, and they would grow old together.

Then it hit him. He was going to die. The realization was so...final, so...monumental that it utterly took his breath away.

Up until this point, his biggest worry was how Lily would react after finding out about the Polyjuice Potion. On some level, he'd always known he would die. After all, even wizards couldn't live forever. But like any seventeen-year-old, he'd been under the impression that he was immortal. Even though his elderly parents were ailing and people all around him, from all walks of life, were being murdered by Voldemort and his followers. The concept that he could die before he was in his hundreds, die anywhere but on a deathbed surrounded by loved ones and then quietly slip away, was unthinkable.

James finally sucked in a shaky breath as tears glazed his hazel eyes. When would it happen? Would it hurt? Would he beg to die?

The black-haired youth shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind. Worrying about the problems of the future wouldn't solve anything. He'd always been the type to live on a day-to-day basis, and he wouldn't let these revelations affect anything. But he did decide that from this point on, he would live every moment to its fullest.


	34. In the Name of Friendship

Part 34:  
In the Name of Friendship  
(Saturday, October 29, 1977)

Severus nervously smoothed his costume as he examined himself in the mirror. He had decided to dress as a 1700s Muggle pirate with his dark hair freshly-scrubbed and pulled back from his face in a ponytail with a black ribbon, a black captain's thigh-length 1700s style jacket, a black poet's shirt, black breeches, and knee-high scrunched boots. He swallowed hard and moved to change but decided against the idea. He could do this. As a final addition, he added the blunted blade to the scabbard at his right side.

Severus left the dormitories and went to the Great Hall. Live bats flittered through the air, not low enough to tangle in anyone's hair, but they still had some of the students gazing skyward in fear. The sallow-skinned Slytherin really had no idea why people were so afraid of the little creatures; he thought they were rather cute. Candles floated in the air and lightning lashed through the stormy sky of the Great Hall's charmed ceiling. He took a seat and listened to the band as it warmed up, waiting for his date.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Snape, I hardly recognized you." Severus turned to face Professor Flaherty, who was dressed as a monk. Severus had always loved Potions, but even he had to admit that being in Flaherty's class was more torture than pleasure. "How is your Potions project going with Miss Evans?" Flaherty asked. A look like he'd sucked a rather sour lemon crossed Severus's face. "You do know that it is worth half of your grade, Mr. Snape."

"I realize that, Professor Flaherty," Severus bit off.

"Very well, then," the man stated, walking toward Dumbledore who was dressed in a bright, orange-and-yellow Hawaiian-print shirt, orange Bermuda shorts, and yellow flip-flops. The Headmaster was sipping on pumpkin juice with a little umbrella in it and smiled warmly as Flaherty approached. The two talked in undertones, looking occasionally toward Severus. Flaherty nodded and looked once more toward Severus before disappearing into the crowd.

The black-haired youth suddenly felt rather uneasy.

* * *

Hermione swallowed hard as she stared at her costume. "You don't think it's too much?" she asked Lily.

"I think it's just enough. You look absolutely perfect, Hermione," Lily stated.

The brunette examined herself in the mirror, smoothing her hands down the full, bell-skirt of her dress. She sucked in a deep breath. It had been two years since the last time she'd dressed up like this, and she was feeling exceptionally nervous again.

* * *

"Who should I go to the masque with?" Sirius questioned as he straightened the feathered hat he wore.

Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius. "The dance is in ten minutes and you still haven't got a date?" the werewolf questioned.

The black-haired Beater shrugged and adjusted his cape. "Yeah, there's a gaggle of girls waiting for me to choose. Not sure which one, though. Which one do you think would make Hermione the most jealous?"

"_Densaugeo_," Draco muttered, eyeing the fangs he was sprouting from his canines. When he was satisfied with their size and pointiness, he ended the spell. "Give it up, Padfoot; she just wants to be 'just friends.'" He was extremely disappointed in himself for the strange joy that started to swell within him at this realization. He looked to James. "You know, I'd make a better vampire in my body."

"Oh, shut it, Whiskers, you'll get it back when I'm done with it," James stated as he pulled on his leather gauntlets.

Peter wrinkled his nose and shoved the feather out of his face. "Do you really have to put it that way? It just sounds...well, it doesn't sound right," he said.

"So, which one am I again?" Sirius asked.

"You're Porthos," Peter said. "I'm D'Artagnan, Prongs is Aramis, and Moony is Athos."

"Why am I Porthos?" Sirius questioned.

"He's got all the girls," James replied before Sirius's reflection could make a comment on how good Sirius looked. The reflection had been complimenting him every few minutes, and Sirius didn't need his ego to get any more swollen.

"Oh, yeah, I can see why I'd be him," Sirius said, giving his reflection a cheeky grin.

"You look perfect," the reflection gushed, and his fellow Marauders rolled their eyes.

They exited the Head Boy's room and looked toward the Head Girl's room. "I wonder what Hermione's wearing," Sirius mumbled.

"Padfoot, you're pathetic," Peter stated. They headed from the head common room and headed to the Great Hall.

"Oh, looky, there's Snivellus," Sirius stated, looking toward the table where the dark-haired youth sat. "Doesn't he just look spiffy?"

Before any trouble could start, an ethereal figure entered the room. Lily Evans wore a vibrant, emerald-green Greek chiton, matching Greek sandals, vines wrapped around her forearms, and woven into her red hair. The emerald-green shade made her peaches-and-cream complexion glow and made her red hair seem even redder. Her green eyes -- Harry's eyes -- were accentuated with glittery green make-up surrounding them in the shape of leaves. The silken material that comprised her costume made her seem to float. The five Marauders stared at her in wonder.

Draco elbowed James hard, and James finally came out of his stupor enough to walk over to his date. "Lily, wow, you look...you look absolutely gorgeous," he managed.

Lily blushed prettily and took his proffered hand. "So do you," she replied.

"So what are you dressed as?" he asked, brushing a chaste kiss over the back of her hand. "If it was an angel, then you succeeded."

"That was **bad**," she said with a giggle.

"I know," he admitted.

"I'm a nymph," she said.

"A nymph?" he choked out, eyes glazing over with lust.

"A tree spirit," she clarified. James looked a bit crestfallen.

Across the room, Narcissa Black -- who had decided to dress as Morgana le Fay -- stared at Draco's body with Lily Evans with murder in her blue eyes. Lucius, who had settled for silver dress robes, stared across the room at another entrant to the Great Hall.

A petite, beautiful girl with honey-brown hair in elaborate curls pulled back from her face with silver barrettes that dangled baby's breath and silvery-white ribbon into her hair, had just entered the Great Hall. She wore a silvery-white ball gown with an intricately-beaded bodice, long sleeves that puffed at the top, and her full bell skirt swished provocatively as she walked, giving a glimpse of the glass slippers she wore. Who was that girl?

The four remaining Marauders stared at the entrance to the Great Hall with awe. "Who's that?" Remus started.

"She's absolutely dazzling," Sirius stated.

"Wow...is that really...?" Peter asked.

"Hermione," a voice came from behind them. They turned to watch as Severus walked past them and to the girl. Severus gave an elegant bow and kissed the back of her hand causing her to blush. She lifted her skirts slightly and gave a small curtsy. He grinned and offered her his arm.

"No way..." Draco said. "That can't be...I mean, Hermione's...and **she's**..." He had a quick flash of the Yule Ball, her being arm candy for Viktor Krum in those periwinkle dress robes. That was right; she could be beautiful.

He stared after Severus and Hermione as the black-haired teenager led her to a table, pulling out a chair for her. She sat down and Severus pushed the chair in for her. Draco felt something rise inside him that he couldn't name. He'd known Severus his entire life, the future Potions professor was even his godfather, but at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hex off Severus's overlarge nose. But why?

* * *

"Hermione, you look stunning," Severus said, his sallow skin turning crimson.

"This is a good look for you," Hermione stated. She brushed a stray strand of hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. Severus shivered noticeably.

* * *

Draco reached for his wand and moved to act on his desires. "No, no, you've got to be kidding me!" Sirius cried, slumping into a nearby chair. He shoved the feather from his hat quite violently out of his face. Feeling rather sheepish, Draco replaced the wand and slumped down nearby. "She dumped me for...for **Snivellus**!? I mean...I know she was going...b--but...this...is too much." He left the table, followed by a bevy of buxom Hufflepuffs.

"I need some air," Remus stated. He gave Draco a scathing glare and left the table as well. Remus exited the Great Hall and walked out onto the grounds. The moon was no longer full, and he could feel it pulling on him, playing with him. The moon had been full a few days ago: a lifetime ago for the werewolf.

It had been before he had found out that James was going to be murdered.

This entire time, Draco had known, and he hadn't told. And Hermione! She was in on this, too, and she was supposed to be Harry's friend. Harry…James was going to be a father. Who would have ever thought that James and Lily would marry and have a child?

He swallowed hard, in total disbelief that he'd decided to take the Unbreakable Vow. He shouldn't have. If it cost his friendship with James, it was worth it. James would be alive. He'd have his family. Remus straightened up. James had said he wasn't to tell anyone; he didn't say anything about not trying to stop it. The sandy-haired teenager stood straighter and squared his shoulders.

* * *

Peter stared after the werewolf with confusion. "What's up with him? Oh, right," he said. "He sometimes gets this way when it's so close to that time of the month."

Draco ignored Peter. "Why do I feel this way...l--like I want to really hurt someone?" Draco asked himself.

"Because you haven't gotten over her yet?" the chubby boy suggested.

"B--But she's everything I detest!" Draco defended. "She--she's an annoying, buck-toothed, frizzy-haired Muggle-born know-it-all!"

"Okay. Buckteeth...don't see it. Frizzy hair...again, don't see it. Muggle-born, yeah, but so? Know-it-all...and you're not one?" Peter stated.

A low hiss of air escaped Draco's lungs, and he banged his forehead on the table hard a couple of times. Peter stared at him. "Oh, Merlin, I--I think...I think I like...her..." Draco groaned.

A little smirk crossed the rat-faced boy's face. "Who?"

"Her! **Hermione**!" the blonde stated, gesturing wildly toward the vicinity of Hermione and Severus. "What in the name of Merlin's great silver beard am I doing thinking that!? My father, he--he's going to--to disinherit me after trying at least two of the Unforgivables on me a--and other curses that aren't unforgivable but bloody painful! If not, at least, making an attempt to--to try the Killing Curse! Mum won't let him, of course, 'cause she--she wants to jump my bones. Oh, Merlin, no..." Peter shuddered.

Once he regained his composure, Peter continued. "So you never dated Hermione?" he asked. "I didn't think so."

"What do you mean you 'didn't think so'?" Draco demanded. "We were so...careful."

"Well...maybe if you looked at each other with anything other than hatred when you first said you were dating, I might have believed it," he said pointedly.

Draco stared at the brunette. "Okay, fine. We lied. So Padfoot wouldn't hit on her...and she started dating Padfoot...so, marvel at the concept."

* * *

Lily and James stared at Draco with amusement. "Um, what's he doing?" James asked. 

"It looks like he's having a nervous breakdown," Lily stated, arching a brow. "Oh, well. Would you like to dance?"

James looked from Draco to Lily and grinned. "I think he can handle himself," he stated. "I'd love to dance." He smiled and led Lily onto the dance floor.

* * *

Severus looked nervously at Hermione, sucking in a breath as he tried to draw up the courage to ask her. "Uh, Hermione, would you, um, maybe...would you like to possibly...?" he stuttered. 

The brunette gave him a soft smile. "You can ask me, Severus, I promise I won't bite," she said.

"Would you like to, uh, dance?" he asked.

Hermione beamed at him. "I'd love to," she replied. With a nervous smile in return, the tall, dark-haired boy led her onto the dance floor. Surprisingly, Severus Snape was a good dancer.

_Shadows grow so long before my eyes  
And they're moving across the page.  
Suddenly, the day turns into night  
Far away from the city._

"'Baby, I Love Your Way,'" Hermione said.

Severus coughed. "Excuse me?"

Hermione laughed at the pallor his naturally-pale skin had taken on. "It's the name of the song. My parents liked to neck to it."

"How old is this song?" he asked.

An arch of a brown brow and a quick lie. "Just because they're married doesn't mean they don't snog..."

* * *

_But don't hesitate  
'Cause your love won't wait, hey.  
Ooo, baby, I love your way every day,  
Wanna tell you I love your way every day,  
Wanna be with you night and day._

"Look at him! He's all over her!" Draco cried. "It's--it's not fair. The first time he actually gets a girl and he--he practically...humps her in public."

Peter wondered if he was looking at the same scene that Draco was. Hermione and Severus were about a foot apart, dancing formally like the old couples that his Squib grandmother liked to watch on _The Lawrence Welk Show_.

* * *

"Moon appears to shine and light the sky  
With the help of some fireflies..."

Before he actually knew it, James was singing softly under his breath as he maneuvered Lily around gracefully, the chiton floating around her ankles. Her pretty face was alight with happiness. "I didn't know you could sing," she said. James paused in his singing, blushing slightly. A teasing smile crossed Lily's lips. "I didn't say stop..."

James continued, singing so she could actually hear him.

"I wonder how they have the powder shine, shine, shine;  
I can see them under the pines."

* * *

_But don't hesitate  
'Cause your love won't wait, hey.  
Ooh baby I love your way every day,  
Wanna tell you I love your way every day,  
Wanna be with you night and day, uh, yeah.  
But don't hesitate  
'Cause your love won't wait._

Severus stared across the room at James-in-Draco's-body. "So, how do you feel about this charming new development?" he inquired.

Hermione looked over her shoulder with a small smile. "They deserve to be happy," she said.

Severus's brows arched. "Are you telling me you don't feel the least bit uncomfortable?"

"Actually, no," Hermione said. "They're going to make an adorable couple."

Severus simply stared at her.

* * *

_I can see the sunset in your eyes,  
Brown and grey and blue besides.  
Clouds are stalking islands in the sun,  
Wish I could dry one out of season._

James looked toward the table where Draco sat, their eyes met, and James gave a nod toward the gardens. "Would you like to take a walk with me?" he asked.

Lily nodded and smiled. "I'd like some fresh air," she admitted.

_But don't hesitate  
'Cause your love won't wait, hey.  
Ooo, baby I love your way every day,  
Wanna tell you I love your way, ooo,  
Wanna be with you night and day.  
Ooo, baby, I love your way every day,  
Wanna tell you I love your way, ooo,  
Wanna be with you night..._

The strains of the song faded as they walked hand-in-hand out the doors and walked the school's grounds. The waning gibbous moon cast its silvery glow on the emerald lawn, bathing the two. Summer was hanging on for dear life and a warm breeze ruffled their costumes. "You know I wasn't sure what to think of you when you first started school here," Lily said. "Hermione wasn't too fond of you even though you were supposed to be dating."

"Lies," James said simply.

"I figured out as much. She seemed a bit too easy to let you go. If I had been her, I would have held on tight," she said. "I've been thinking a lot lately."

"Thinking is good."

"And, well, this is awkward--" she blushed brilliantly "--I think I love you, Draco Aquilus."

James's heart rose to the very heavens but crashed quite hard when he realized that she had just confessed her love to a time-traveler whose last name wasn't even Aquilus. "Um, Lily, there's something I need to tell you as well." He struggled with the words for several minutes before letting actions speak.

He kissed her. The Potion wore off. The kiss ended, leaving them both breathless. She pulled away reluctantly with a small smile on her rose-pink lips and found herself face-to-face with James Potter, the bane of her existence at Hogwarts. She shoved him away. "What the **hell**?!" she demanded.

"Lily, I can explain everything," James said. She pushed past him and ran to the castle. "Lily, wait!"

Tears were blinding her as she jostled past the guy in the doorway and headed toward the stairs, and Draco grunted as she collided with him. "Ow, bloody hell," he muttered. James looked toward the stairs, and Draco handed him his glasses.

"Lily, let me explain!" James insisted.

"All this time. All...this...time, it was **you**!?" she demanded as the three entered the Head Common Room.

"Yes!" he cried.

"And you!? You were in on this, too?" she demanded, pointing toward Draco. The blonde nodded. "How could you do this to me?"

"Lily, James loves you!" Draco cried.

"I don't even know who you are!" she screamed, slamming the Head Girl's door hard behind her.

Draco and James exchanged a look. "Well, that went well," Draco said after a few moments.

James looked at Draco grimly. "Couldn't have gone any better..."

* * *

The song is "Baby, I Love Your Way" by Peter Frampton.


	35. Piece of My Heart

First things first; this chapter has NOT been beta-d. Because I can't seem to get ahold of my beta. I sent her this chapter almost two months ago, and I have yet to have gotten a reply. I'm not even sure if this chapter is finished. I just desperately need some creative criticism. So, please be gentle and help me make it better.

* * *

Part 35:  
Piece of My Heart  
(Sunday, October 30, 1977)

"So, uh, how's it going in there?" James asked Hermione as she exited the Head Girl's room. He, Draco, Peter, and Sirius were in the common room. Remus had gone off to do some studying.

"She's been listening to Janis Joplin all day and...um...she's been throwing jinxes at a picture she found of you for about two hours now..." Hermione replied.

"Well, at least she's got a picture of me," James stated brightly.

His comment was met by blank stares from the four Marauders and Hermione. Peter spoke up, "As our ambassador for the female species, can you translate?"

"Well, I think the jinxes are self-explanatory," she said. "But considering the fact that she's been listening to 'Piece of My Heart' on max volume..." she paused and they could make out the strains of said song:

_Didn't I make you feel like you were the only man, yeah,  
Yeah, an' didn't I give you nearly everything that a woman possibly can?  
Honey, you know I did!  
And each time I tell myself that I, well, I think I've enough,  
But I'm gonna show you, baby, that a woman can be tough._

"...and charmed to repeat means that she's very angry because James and Draco tricked her..." she looked pointedly at the Head Boy and the blonde.

James stared at her. "**You** were the one who said it was a good idea!" he proclaimed.

Draco didn't respond, but the barest hint of a blush rose in his pale cheeks as he remembered the day she'd found out about the Polyjuice Potion. She had kissed him; he could feel her lips against his. An answering blush colored her face as she, too, recalled the kiss. Sirius looked from Hermione to Draco with a groan.

The frizzy-haired know-it-all continued, forcing the blood out of her face. "But she also really likes you--"

"I could have told you that much. She said she l--" he stopped suddenly, a goofy grin on his handsome face.

"She didn't say the l-word, did she?" Sirius asked. James's non-response was enough. "You've only been dating a **month**!"

"Well, sometimes, soul mates fall in love fast," James said. "And I love her, too."

"'Soul mates'?" Sirius did a double-take as he realized the last part of what James had said. "Prongs, Prongs, Prongs, you're **seventeen**! You've got a world of life ahead of you!" Sirius proclaimed. Hermione paled, Draco looked sick, and James frowned. "What?"

"Just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm going to live a long life," James stated simply.

"What could possibly happen?" Peter asked. Hermione stared at him for a long moment.

"I think it's best you give her a bit of space for a little while, let her come to grips with it all," Hermione added sagely.

* * *

(Sunday, November 13, 1977)

_You're out on the streets lookin' good, and, baby,  
Deep down in your heart I guess you know that it ain't right.  
Never, never, never, never, never, never hear me when I cry at night.  
Baby, and I cry all the time!  
And each time I tell myself that I, well, I can't stand the pain,  
But when you hold me in your arms, I'll sing it once again._

It had been a fortnight. Two weeks of sheer misery for James Potter. He'd barely been able to eat or sleep or do much of anything but mope. Lily hadn't so much as looked at him since he'd revealed the truth. Okay, she did look at him on occasion but the look was one of pure malice, worse than the time that he'd humiliated Snivellus in fifth year. He swore that he was in danger of frostbite whenever he came near Lily.

Hermione had been doing her best to try to mend matters without totally angering Lily, but, so far, it wasn't working. Sirius thought James was insane for falling so quick. Peter thought it was romantic. Draco and Hermione knew it was meant to be. And Remus...where was Remus anyway? Remus hadn't been around much lately, come to think of it. And when he was, the exchanges between him and Draco were almost as cold as the ones between James and Lily.

James stared up at the canopy of his bed, trying desperately to think of a way to try to amend for his stupidity. Well, technically Draco's stupidity, but stupidity none-the-less. Unbidden, a thought rose at the back of his mind. He swallowed hard. It was time to sacrifice himself on the altar of dignity.

* * *

Draco looked across the room and swallowed hard. He'd been practicing since the Halloween Masque on what he'd say. Peter had been helping. Surprisingly, the chubby, rat-faced boy was actually quite the romantic and was really very good at playing Cyrano de Bergerac. Draco reminded himself to try and get Peter a girl.

Then he remembered. Peter was Wormtail. Wormtail had betrayed James; Wormtail would get James, Lily, and Sirius killed. Draco's jaw dropped and he stared at Peter for a long moment. The round-faced boy stared back in confusion.

"Oi! Moony, it's about time you left the library," Sirius cajoled over lunch. Remus had been spending every waking moment he wasn't in class in the library for two weeks now. Sirius thought the grade-conscious werewolf was studying for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s, Peter thought that Remus had gotten a girlfriend and was snogging her in secret, and James and Draco thought the sandy-haired Chaser was up to something.

Remus moved to sit down but scowled as he saw Draco. He immediately stopped and moved down to the end of the table near Regulus Black. The four remaining Marauders stared at Remus with confusion. James and Draco exchanged a look. The black-haired Seeker sighed, nodded, and followed the erstwhile Marauder.

"Not very good at taking a hint, are you?" Remus asked.

James shrugged. "You need to give it up, Moony," he stated simply.

"I'm **not** going to give it up, Prongs," he said.

"Bloody hell, Moony, it's **my** life," James stated. Neither of them noticed that Regulus's eyes had left his Potions homework to concentrate on them.

"Not just YOUR life," Remus hissed. "It's Padfoot and Wormtail's lives, too!"

"Everyone has to die," James stated. "And I choose to die for Harry. You need to accept that." He stood up and re-joined the rest of the Marauders.

Regulus paled noticeably and looked toward the Head table. His silvery-blue eyes met Professor Flaherty's and he gave an-almost imperceptible nod to the Potions professor.

* * *

As soon as James re-joined them. "Any luck?" Draco asked.

"Not at all," James stated.

"What happened with the three of you, anyway? You've been acting strange for a while now," Peter said.

"Just we don't see things the same way," Draco said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a bridge to mend."

He left the Marauders, looking pointedly at Remus. Remus moved to join his friends. Draco sat down beside Lily, and the red-haired Head Girl sent Draco a glare that would put a chill in the very, snake-like bones of Voldemort. Considering the fact that his mother had been actively pursuing him a romantic way and his father was certain to at least attempt to kill Draco if the elder Malfoy ever found out about his son's sudden and insane attraction to a Mudblood, Draco was unfazed. "I need to talk to you," the blonde said.

"And which one are you?" the redhead spat. "The real-Draco or the fake-Draco?"

"Um, the real Draco--" he started.

"Oh, really, how do I know?"

"Lily, please, let me explain. It was MY idea. I didn't want Narcissa..." he felt strange calling his mother "Narcissa," but continued on "...to, uh...PURSUE...me, and James **really** likes you..."

"James...is a prat," the Head Girl said simply.

"Well, yeah, he's a prat. He's male, all males are prats; it's part of our charm," Draco told her. "Lily, please, give him a chance. It may be the best decision you'll ever make." He looked down the table at the four Marauders who were talking and then across the room to Hermione. He plucked up all of his courage and walked over to the Slytherin table.

* * *

At the Slytherin table, Hermione and Severus were talking. "Are you trying to get an--an A?" she asked, eyes wide. "Professor Flaherty says that the project is worth **half** the final grade. And if--if you don't do this, you'll drop down to an A, Severus, an 'Acceptable'! How horrible is that? All O's and--and E's and that one A. In **Potions**, no less."

Severus looked sour at the prospect of the A marring his O's and E's. But work with Lily Evans? It was...unthinkable. "Hermione..." he groaned.

"An A, Severus, an **A**," she said seriously.

"Fine, okay, you win," he said with a scowl. "I'll work with the Mudb--" he was cut off when Hermione kicked him hard under the table.

"Don't even THINK about finishing that word," she stated.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, rubbing his injured shin.

Draco took a deep breath and sat beside Severus and across from Hermione. The future Potions Professor gave Draco a scowl that he usually reserved for Gryffindors. _Oh, right, I **am** a Gryffindor,_ Draco mused. "Hermione, Severus," the blond greeted them.

"Hello, Narcissa," Hermione said, looking over Draco's shoulder.

Draco looked panicked. "Where!?" he gasped, whipping around so fast in search of his infatuated mother that Hermione was almost-certain he'd get whiplash. When he didn't see the blonde, Draco looked back to Hermione, who grinned widely. "That was cruel, Hermione."

"I couldn't resist," Hermione said. Severus looked perplexed. "You'll understand someday, and you'll laugh...or, well, maybe not." She turned her attention back to Draco. "So, what do you want?"

"Well, certainly not the heart attack you're trying to give me," Draco muttered. "I wanted to ask you if you'd, well, if you'd maybe like to, uh..."

He didn't get to finish his stuttered comment when a voice filled the Great Hall. James Potter was now standing on the Gryffindor table, and he was singing to the shock and horror of Sirius Black, the bewilderment of Remus Lupin, the amusement of Peter Pettigrew, and the embarrassment of Lily Evans.

"Something in the way she moves  
Attracts me like no other lover,  
Something in the way she woos me.  
I don't wanna leave her now,  
You know I believe her now."

"Oh, Merlin, no, he isn't!" Draco groaned.

A smile crossed Hermione's lips. "He is. You know, he is a pretty good singer," she said. Severus's jaw dropped.

* * *

Remus stared at James who was stalking down the Gryffindor table. "I can't believe he's..." he started. "How'd he get the lyrics?"

"I wrote them down for him," Peter stated.

"I can't believe he's singing!" Sirius cried, appalled. "It--it's just..."

"Romantic?" Peter stated simply.

"Really? Birds like that?" Sirius asked. He looked over at Hermione.

"Not the way you sing, Padfoot," Remus said.

* * *

"He is **not** doing this," Lily hissed under her breath.

"Oh, wow, James is **so** romantic!" a girl gushed. "You are so lucky, Lily!"

"**LUCKY**!?" Lily demanded.

* * *

Oh, Merlin. James hoped he was doing the right thing. Hermione said that women liked to be romanced, to be sung to. And he had a good voice. He took a deep breath and continued, his voice ringing through the Great Hall. It seemed to be working...on every girl **but** Lily.

"Somewhere in her smile she knows  
That I don't need no other lover,  
Something in her style that shows me.  
Don't want to leave her now,  
You know I believe her now."

* * *

"Wait, 'lover'?" Draco asked. "You don't think that he...did he?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized what Draco was asking. "I hope not...that would be **so** wrong." James was now in front of Lily, singing. James had every female entranced, Professors Sprout and McGonagall even looked a bit flushed. Professors Dumbledore and Flaherty looked quite amused.

* * *

Okay, fine, so Violet was right. It WAS romantic, even Lily had to admit that. She was almost forgetting how angry she was at James for lying to her. **Almost**. She stared up at him as he knelt before her. And, really, his hair **did** look good like that, all mussed like he'd just gotten off of his broom. It reminded her of how he-as-Draco had looked after one of their make-out sessions. Lily's face turned the color of her hair.

"You're asking me will my love grow,  
I don't know, I don't know.  
You stick around now it may show,  
I don't know, I don't know."

James leapt off the table and took Lily's hand, pulling her to her feet. He gently brushed the red hair out of her face and stared deeply into her green eyes. She really did have the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen. He sincerely hoped that Harry would have them, too.

"Something in the way she knows  
And all I have to do is think of her,  
Something in the things she shows me.  
Don't want to leave her now,  
You know I believe her now."

If this had been a movie, there would have been the sound of a record needle skipping and the music abruptly stopping. But there were no sound effects excluding the moony sighs of hundreds of girls who had all simultaneously developed crushes on the Gryffindor Seeker.

And then the loud, resounding **smack** of Lily Evans's palm on James Potter's cheek as she slapped him.

Many students gasped, many grimaced, and others laughed. Most of those laughing were sitting at Hermione's table, but even the Slytherins were divided. It depended on who they disliked more: Gryffindors or Mudbloods.

"You **think** that after what you **did** to me, a little song would work?" she questioned angrily. She turned on her heel and retreated from the Great Hall.

James slumped beside Sirius, who was torn between laughing at his friend's humiliation or acting out in righteous indignation. Remus frowned at looked across the room at Hermione and Draco, and Draco's silver eyes met Remus's golden gaze. The tawny-haired youth's eyes narrowed, and the blonde arched a pale brow. Remus looked like he wanted to rip out Draco's throat. The time traveler was starting to feel really bad about lying, and he decided that he needed a peace offering.

Hermione delved into her bag, searching for a photo. She scowled as she realized that Remus still had her picture of the Quidditch World Cup. The brunette reached deeper into her bag and retrieved another photo; this one was of her, Harry, Ron, Sirius, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ginny taken last Christmas at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. She stared intently at Harry's image, trying to determine whether he had faded or not. She couldn't tell. So much for the _Back to the Future_ test.

"Who are they?" Severus questioned, peering at the picture that Hermione now held.

"Um, friends from Agnitio," she stated, hastily putting the picture away.

"That was a very interesting scar one had," the sallow-skinned future Potions professor stated.

Draco took this as a sign to change the subject. "Severus, Hermione and I were wondering if you could offer some help on our Potions project," he said.

"What are you planning to concoct?" the black-haired Slytherin asked.

"Wolf's Bane," Draco answered.

"Wolf's Bane? Why would you want to -- oh..."

"We know that you know what we know. And he's not a bad person once you get to know him. He was forced into this against his will," Hermione answered. "Please help us, Severus?"

How did she do that? In his nearly eighteen years, no one had **ever** gotten past Severus Snape's boundaries. He **never** trusted anyone. Trust was **not** an option; it was a weakness to be exploited. He sincerely hated Hermione for her ability to destroy what he had trained himself not to do. "I'll help you," he finally relented.

Hermione grinned and gave Severus a quick peck on the cheek. The oily teenager blushed, and he supposed that this was what it was like to have a sister. Draco Malfoy had always considered himself rather rational (although, those who knew him -- and had half a brain, which immediately left out Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy -- thought he was more passionate and emotional than rational), but he was feeling anything but rational at the moment. He was grasping for his wand when a voice cut in. "Mr. Snape, might I have a word with you?"

Severus stiffened at his name and turned to look at the source. Flaherty looked at him in return, a slightly amused smile on his thin lips. "Yes, Professor Flaherty?" the black-haired youth questioned.

"In my office, please," Flaherty directed. Severus looked nervous before he stood, grabbed his things, and followed Flaherty from the Great Hall and down to the professor's dungeon office.

* * *

The songs are "Piece of My Heart" by Janis Joplin, and "Something" by the Beatles (written by George Harrison).


	36. Strange Days

I know this chapter's been a very long time in coming, but you wouldn't **_believe_** the kind of writer's block I've had. My beta -- well, more of a muse, really -- essentially abandoned me, and I haven't had anyone to bounce ideas off of for some time. Anyone interested, feel free to e-mail me.

* * *

Part 36:  
Strange Days  
(Wednesday, November 13, 1996)

The animosity between Slytherins and Gryffindors has increased tenfold since the disappearance of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. Each side blamed the other. The Slytherins, who were well-known for their secretiveness, were even more paranoid; Pansy Parkinson seemed to jump at the slightest shadow.

It was shocking just how quiet the classes had become since Hermione had vanished. No bushy-haired brunette waving her arm in the air with the "pick me, pick me" intensity of a six-year-old who knew the answer. Lessons went by slower than before, teachers scanning the students for anyone who actually knew the answers to the questions posed.

Speaking of the teachers, quite a few of them were acting quite strange -- except Binns, of course -- whom, it seemed, hadn't really realized that his star pupils had disappeared. He'd often call them in class and was rather befuddled when neither of them responded. None of the students put together that the teachers who were acting so strange were the ones who had had the longest tenures at Hogwarts, but the teachers who seemed the oddest hadn't been teachers that long at Hogwarts.

Lupin seemed even more harried than he had before, had become an apparent chocoholic, and was sometimes quite forgetful. Defense Against the Dark Arts had become an almost-stressful environment for Harry and Ron. Lupin was running the classes ragged, taking out his frustrations on the students. It was supposed to be preparation against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but it seemed like Lupin was working out his frustrations.

* * *

Severus Snape's pallid, long-fingered hands trembled around the potion he held: a black, steaming brew -- the bitter scent of which he utterly detested, not that the taste was much better. He moved the potion to his lips just as Remus Lupin took the empty seat next to him. The sudden movement caught the Potions professor by surprise, and he started. The potion dribbled down his front, and Snape let out a yelp as the scalding liquid soaked through his robes. He muttered a quick _Evanesco_ and the liquid was gone.

Snape glared at Lupin and looked morosely at his now-nearly empty cup. He examined the shallow pool of coffee left over and drained it with a shudder as the caffeine attacked his system. The mug was magically refilled, and Severus downed this coffee as well. Ah, coffee, the only thing that was keeping him going any longer. Lupin examined the maniacal gleam in Snape's obsidian eyes with a trace of amusement. "You're an addict," the werewolf observed.

The coffee kept away sleep. No sleep kept away memories. No, no, it didn't. The memories still came...but sluggishly. Snape glared at Lupin, then groaned as another round of memories assailed him. "Blast," the man hissed.

"Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends. We're so glad you could attend. Come inside! Come inside!" Lupin murmured.

Snape scowled. "What is it with you and yours and lyrics?" he demanded.

Lupin shrugged. "We like music," he stated.

A slow smile curved Snape's thin lips. "Evans didn't."

Lupin bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "That was embarrassing on a level I didn't know existed."

"One of the better days of my life," Snape admitted.

"You **really** need to get yourself a life." The Potions professor scowled at the sandy-haired man. Severus pushed his lank, black locks out of his pale face.

* * *

From his vantage point at the Gryffindor table, Harry watched Snape and Lupin. He knew that they knew something, but he had no idea what it was. Something about the situation with Hermione just wasn't making any sense.


	37. Madigan Flaherty

Part 37:  
Madigan Flaherty  
(Sunday, November 13, 1977 - Continued...)

Severus Snape, astonishingly enough, had never been in the Potions master's office before this moment. Slughorn had always had his favorites, and Severus had never been one of them. Even Severus, a Potions fanatic since his mother had given him his first Potions set for his seventh birthday, couldn't stand Flaherty. Since the Halloween Masque, he'd been wondering what Flaherty and Dumbledore were up to. Now, he supposed, he'd find out.

The Potions office hadn't been redecorated since Flaherty had taken the position last year and definitely bore the fingerprint of Slughorn. The youth's obsidian eyes trailed over the moving pictures in their gilded frames of Slughorn with various famous people of the Wizarding World. He couldn't decide which teacher he disliked less. Slughorn was a blowhard who'd rather regale the class with tales of famous people he'd met than actually trying to teach. Flaherty didn't teach much at all, he preferred to let the students come up with their own ways of doing the potions.

Severus appreciated the challenge, and he could appreciate Flaherty's demanding nature. But there were limits to Severus's patience, and Flaherty's criticism of his perfect potions made him extremely irate. Flaherty entered the room from the Potions closet. "Ah, hello, Severus, so good to see you."

Severus stiffened as the professor entered the room. "Hello, Professor Flaherty," the dark-haired youth said.

"I suppose you're wondering why you're here," the professor said, examining a vial of ground unicorn horn. The teenager bit back his reply. "There are multiple reasons. The first being your project with Miss Evans." The professor peered over his horn-rimmed glasses and examined the student before him. "I understand that the two of you were friends once."

The dark-haired youth's sallow skin became waxen. "Once," he said.

"Then why can't you work together?" Flaherty looked at Severus over his horn-rimmed spectacles, analyzing the teenager before he abruptly changed the subject. "Professor Dumbledore has asked me to help you with your...alliances." Severus simply stared at the professor. With a roll of his silver-blue eyes, the professor continued, "I'm going to teach you Occlumency."

"Occlumency," Severus repeated.

"Yes. You're going to need it in the time to come," Flaherty replied, placing the ground unicorn horn back in its place in the cabinet. "Do you wish to start today? Or shall we schedule a day to meet?"

Severus was still rather put off by the professor's sudden change of subject. "Er...we can schedule a day to meet," he stated.

"Is eight o'clock in the evening good for you, Mr. Snape?" Flaherty inquired, examining a calendar. Severus nodded. "Very well. I'll expect you here at seven forty-five every evening. This is most vital, Mr. Snape. You must understand that." Another mute nod from the teenager. "Very well, you're free to go." The black-haired youth frowned and left the Potions office; the professor watching with interest. As soon as Severus was out of sight, Flaherty closed his office door and entered his personal chambers. This had been the only room he'd changed since Slughorn had left. It wasn't nearly as opulent as Slughorn's office; in fact, it was rather Spartan. Masculine, dark wood furniture with accents of red. He sighed and sat on his bed, reaching his hands under his robe until his long, knotty fingers encircled the thick, silver chain that hung from his thin neck with its prominent Adam's apple and fingered the little medallion that hung from it. With a sigh, he took off the necklace and, immediately, there was a change.

The short, elderly man grew a few inches in a few seconds. The thin, bony arms with knotty joints grew thicker and muscular. The age spots and wrinkles disappeared revealing pale, young flesh. The thinning, gray hair grew into shoulder-length black curls. The bulbous nose was replaced by a nose that seemed like it belonged on a Greek statue. He had heavy-lidded silvery-blue eyes, high cheekbones, a pointed face, and had an arrogant handsomeness about him. The man ran his hands through his hair with a groan and got ready for bed, taking care to put the amulet in a safe place overnight.

He lay his head on the pillows and, just as he was about to fall asleep, there was the sound of a door opening. He sat up in bed, grabbing the amulet. Just as he was about to put the amulet back on, a voice said, "It's okay, it's just me." The professor scowled as he recognized the voice. With a muttered growl, the lights sprang to life. Regulus Black examined the professor with interest. "You know, you should wear that form more often, it gives me hope for my future."

The professor glared at Regulus. "He'd recognize me," he stated.

"We're talking about Sirius, right?" Regulus said.

"He's not as stupid as we'd like to think he is," the professor muttered, putting the amulet back in its place. "What're you doing here anyway?"

"Came to see how things went with Snivellus."

"Don't call him that." Regulus shrugged in response. "He's going to help save the world."

"And so are we...me...you. Ugh, which is it?"

"Let's settle for 'we' or 'us,'" the professor stated. "It's too confusing any other way."

Regulus sighed and shoved a hand through his dark hair. "What about this entire situation **isn't** confusing?" he questioned.

"Such a good point," the man said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He could feel a migraine coming on. Those seemed to be happening a lot lately.

"I'm still trying to figure out where you came from," Regulus said.

"Well, when two people have special feelings for one another--" the older man started. Regulus rolled his eyes. "We went over this: teleportation potion gone wrong."

"Why here? Why this time?"

"To save your--our--sorry ass," the professor said.

"And just what have you accomplished?"

"Well, you're not a Slytherin."

"What's wrong with being a Slytherin? Although, I loved Mum's meltdown when I was sorted into Gryffindor. It made my month."

A sly smile crossed the older man's lips. "That was pretty spectacular," he agreed. "Time is a--"

"You're not going to go into the string theory again, are you?" Regulus demanded. "I'm so **sick** of you using string theory as an excuse. You blundered. And, somehow, you ended up here. I'm going to die in the past. Do you have any idea how much that bloody well sucks?"

Regulus peered at his younger self. "I have an idea," he said drolly. "Anyway, you don't stand a chance with Queenie Greengrass. And that's a good thing. She's a black widow. Has a thing for rich men, and then they suddenly die. She was on number three, an Italian bloke, last I heard. His time is limited."

"Really? Queenie? She seemed so--"

"A trick. You'd best be headed back; Lupin's going to be in a bad mood again. It looks bad to have my students running amok."

Regulus stared at his older self for a long moment and, with a shake of his head, he left the office. The older Regulus examined the medallion that held his rather difficult illusion spell, placed it back on the bedside table and lay his head on his pillow. He soon fell into a dreamless sleep.


	38. The Curves of Your Lips

Part 38:  
The Curves of Your Lips  
(Sunday, November 13, 1977 - Continued...)

Lily sat at the table in the Head Common Room and looked over her notes for Potions class. She never thought she'd miss the obnoxious yet pointless teachings of Slughorn which mostly consisted of how the teacher had influenced famous people in the Wizarding World. It had been two years since Professor Flaherty had taken over while Slughorn wandered among the rich and famous. She had to admit that parts of Flaherty's teachings were rather effective. Forcing the Houses to work together seemed to impress the Sorting Hat which constantly sang about how the Houses should work together.

Lily most certainly did not like that she had to work with Severus. At once, it would have been easy and fun. But that was before he had become a Death Eater. The talk of Death Eaters was still fairly uncommon but the students were definitely not stupid. They knew that something was happening. A war was going on, but most of the students chose to ignore it. Lily wasn't one of those people who could ignore it. Like many Muggle-born students in school, her family had been personally attacked by Death Eaters. Her father, Malcolm, and maternal grandparents had been killed. Her younger sister had almost died as well.

It had happened Christmas Break the year before, almost a year now. She had gone home to visit her family. Lily's mother's parents had moved in when her mother, Iris, had died of cancer when Lily had been thirteen. They were enjoying a nice, quiet family dinner and listening to a record of Christmas music. It was, by all accounts, an ordinary family gathering.

* * *

Petunia had brought her fiancé, Vernon Dursley, to dinner. He seemed nice enough, if a bit skittish. Lily's father liked him enough, and whenever Lily watched the couple, she could see their shared affection for one another. Grandmother Kiernan brought the casserole dish of candied yams to the table. The scent of her cooking filled the family row house, and the portly young man sitting at Petunia's right was practically salivating at the veritable feast the older woman had prepared for Christmas dinner.

"It's so lovely that the two of you are getting married. I was about your age when I married your grandfather," Grandmother Kiernan stated with her soft, lilting voice. A mischievous gleam entered the older woman's bright green eyes. "Your grandfather proposed on Christmas 1939, during the War." Grandmother Kiernan was in her fifties and was just beginning to show signs of wear and tear. Her eyes were lined with faint crow's feet and wrinkles around her mouth showed that she smiled quite often; her blond hair was starting to streak with silver. Her hand reached toward her husband's. The two clasped hands and Lily couldn't help but smile. "Your grandfather was quite the romantic. The War brought him to London where I was living with my parents. He saw me one day at the market and immediately proposed."

"I couldn't help m'self. Your gran was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Still is," Grandfather Kiernan replied. His Irish brogue was lilting and the way he spoke showed his love for his bride of nearly forty years. Although, he was only three years older than his wife, the years hadn't been as good to him. His red hair was almost completely silvered with age and his kindly, aged face was covered in laugh lines but under the wrinkles, anyone could tell that he had been an extremely handsome man in his youth. "I was persistent. Like a dog. I asked around for any information I could get about this angel I'd passed one day. Finally, I found her. My darlin' Daisy."

Grandmother Kiernan giggled, squeezing her husband's hand. She looked at her younger granddaughter. The two shared a look that showed that they both knew what love was and that they had found the ones they wanted to spend their life with. Petunia blushed slightly and smiled sweetly at her groom-to-be. Vernon looked rather love-struck as well and the two shared a chaste peck on the lips. "He found out where I lived and asked around for my name. From that night on, he'd stand under my window and sing. He had such a lovely voice. He drove your great-grandfather mad, singing until dawn any time he could."

"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer true. I'm half-crazy over the love of you. It won't be a stylish marriage. I can't afford a carriage, but you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two,'" Grandfather Kiernan sang. His voice was a bit thinner than it had been when he was wooing his wife, but he still sang like a bird. "Finally, Papa had had enough and just told me to go downstairs and talk to the lad, see if I could chase him away. But I saw him face-to-face for the first time. Those beautiful green eyes." She stroked her husband's cheek. She looked to Lily. "Your mother's eyes and your eyes." Lily blushed and Petunia looked a bit hurt. "Oh, but my dear Petunia, you have your mother's smile. Like a beam of sunshine."

Petunia blushed as well, a hint of a smile coming out at the comparison to her mother. "I proposed again that night," Grandfather Kiernan replied, taking his wife's hand and kissing the back of her wrinkling hand sweetly. "She finally accepted. Less than two months later, we were married. St. Valentine's Day at the family home."

"Within the first month, I was pregnant with your mum. She was always in such a hurry," Grandmother Kiernan added.

Lily, Petunia, and Malcolm had a laugh. Iris had nearly died before she was even born. She hadn't even been due until December, but had been brought on by her mother going into labor early during the first German blitzkrieg attack on London September 7, 1940. She had barely survived and had long-term consequences due to her early birth. As luck would have it, Grandfather Kiernan had been studying medicine while he fought in the War and his quick reactions saved the lives of both his wife and newborn daughter. At Vernon's confused look, Grandmother Kiernan explained to him about the way her daughter had entered the world.

"She was always such a frail, little thing," Grandfather Kiernan stated. "But your da took right good care of me girl." He smiled at Malcolm.

"Thank you, sir," the man spoke for the first time. He looked at his future son-in-law. "You'd best take care of my girl as well, Vernon."

"I will, sir," Vernon said. "You have an amazing daughter, Mr. Evans."

"I do. Two of them," he said, smiling at his two daughters. Lily and Petunia smiled back.

Grandfather Kiernan frowned and looked around as he heard a loud noise. "What was that?"

Malcolm Evans stood up and frowned. "I don't know," he stated. "I'll go look." He didn't have time to move from his seat before the front door was blasted open. Petunia screamed and Vernon shoved her behind him as a stream of black robe-clad people with skull masks streamed into the living room.

"What on earth!?" Grandmother Kiernan cried. A wand was bared and a jet of green light shot from it. Lily raced as fast as she could across the room, trying to push her grandparents out of the way. She landed atop them and looked down to find their faces blank and staring. Any trace of life had been snuffed from their eyes.

A woman behind one of the masks cackled. "A two-fer!" she screamed madly and joyously. The mask did not hide who the person was. The redhead would know that voice anywhere. It was Bellatrix Lestrange, and she had killed Lily's grandparents.

Lily tried not to look at her grandparents and retrieved her wand. "Dad, get them out of here," she commanded.

"Lily..." Malcolm said, staring at his dead in-laws with horror. His face was the color of parchment with a greenish tinge. He stared at his older daughter, who stared back. He grabbed Vernon's arm and Petunia's hand. Petunia hadn't made a sound; she was in shock as was her fianc. The man dragged them out the back door.

"Don't go far!" Bellatrix called. "We'll have fun playing with you!" Lily faced the five Death Eaters who had entered her home and murdered her family. She knew she didn't stand a chance in defeating them. She knew she couldn't kill them, but maybe she could hold them off long enough for her remaining family members to escape. The slender form looked at Lily and spoke again with a mocking voice, "Do you think you can take us all, little girl?"

Lily refused to be baited. "_Expelliarmus_!" she cried. No one was actually expecting her to fight. Bellatrix's wand flew from her hand. Lily murmured a banishing charm which unarmed a second Death Eater."

"The girl's got spirit," a male voice said. "Too bad she's a worthless Mudblood. _Crucio_!" Lily thought fast and cast a shield charm. The shield didn't completely bounce off the Unforgivable, but it certainly deadened the pain. A dull pain went through her and Lily scrabbled under the dining room table. A quick _Reducto_ sent the table up in splinters, the wood stabbing through the girl's shield and cutting her face and hands.

Lily let out a soft cry of pain and tried to come up with some defensive spells. The Death Eaters were obviously enjoying themselves as they slowly made their way toward the young woman. It was her last chance, Lily realized. "_Avada Kedavra_!" she cried. The Death Eater nearest to her collapsed as green light hit him in the chest. Lily was as shocked as the Death Eaters. She scrambled to her feet and raced to the back door. Her father and Vernon were kneeling by a petite, blond collapsed form. "Tuney!"

She raced across the yard, fearing the worst had happened. Malcolm was slapping his daughter's face, trying to get her to come to. To Lily's relief, there was still a slight rise and fall to Petunia's chest. "W--we h--have to get out of here," Lily panted, grabbing her father's hand, Vernon's hand, and making sure she had contact with Petunia.

The last thing that Lily saw from the home she'd spent the past sixteen years growing up in was a burst of green light as she Apparated her sister, father, and future brother-in-law away. The four fell down in the middle of one of the cobblestone streets that made up the roads of Hogsmeade. Lily grunted, her head aching painfully and her stomach roiling sickly from the exertion. Petunia came to as the icy street soaked into her top. "W--where are we?" she demanded, her blue eyes wide and horrified.

Vernon didn't say a word, simply stared at the still form of Malcolm Evans who stared blankly at the starless sky. "M--Mister Evans?" he asked. Lily panted and looked at her father. She knew that look; it was the same look that her grandparents had borne. Her father was dead. She and Petunia were orphans.

"Y--you!" Petunia screamed. "You did this!" She gestured wildly around them and toward their father. "You killed him! You killed Grandmother and Grandfather, too! You sick, demented freak! This is all your fault! **I HATE YOU**!"

Those were the last words that Petunia had spoken to Lily. Once Dumbledore had been notified of the attack on a student's home, he had appeared to help the two girls with the final arrangements of their father and grandparents. Petunia hadn't said another word to her sister. Vernon was trembling uncontrollably even though he tried to comfort his future wife. Dumbledore helped the two Muggles get back to Vernon's family home in Little Whinging. On Valentine's Day, just like Grandfather and Grandmother Kiernan, Vernon and Petunia were married. Lily hadn't been invited.

* * *

Lily had begged Professor Dumbledore to keep the news of her family's death a secret, and he had agreed. Lily threw herself into her studies and helped restart the Dueling Club. It was all she could do to keep her sanity. The redhead had never cried over the death of her family members and refused to do so. But, now, almost a year later, she couldn't hold back the tears. Her shoulders shook as silent tears racked her body.

James entered the Head common room, fresh from Quidditch practice when he saw Lily hunched over the table. At first, he thought she had again fallen asleep doing homework, but then he saw her shoulders quivering as she let loose the pain of losing those she loved most: her grandparents, her father, her little sister, and the fact that she had actually killed someone. The black-haired young man sat next to the Head Girl and placed a calloused hand on her back, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. "It's alright, Lily," James Potter whispered softly. "Everything's going to be alright."

Lily finally looked at him, tears streaking her pretty face. Her almond-shaped emerald eyes that her grandfather and mother had both possessed before her glistened with unshed tears as more tears traced the curve of her face. "**Nothing** is **ever** going to be alright again," she hissed.

"Trust me, Lily, I won't let anything happen to you," James murmured, gently smoothing the tears from her pretty face. Even as he said the words, he knew that it was all a lie. They were both going to die. "I promise, Lily. No one will ever hurt you again." The lies flowed from his lips, and Lily began to believe him.

"How can you say that?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"Because I can," he said. "Trust me, Lily."

"How can I trust you?" she whispered, even to herself, the words didn't sound quite convincing.

"Because you can," he murmured. He seemed closer than ever. Lily could smell grass and the wind on his skin and a musky scent that was just HIM. She realized his hand was still on her face, but she made no move to peel away the large, calloused hand. The hand slid lower, tracing the curve of her jaw, his thumb barely touching the lobe of her ear.

They stared at one another for an eternity, it seemed. Her green eyes never left his hazel eyes which seemed to rotate through a rainbow of colors: blue, brown, green, and every color in between. She suddenly felt self-conscious. She wasn't gorgeous like Farrah Fawcett or Helen Mirren. She always thought her eyes were too big and her nose was too pointy and her top lip was just too thin.

James drank in her appearance. Her face was pink from the tears, but it was usually a shade of alabaster with a hint of peaches and cream, and her auburn hair shone golden in the light. "The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold," he whispered softly. "The curves of your lips rewrite history."

"Oscar Wilde," Lily murmured with a hint of amazement. James smiled slightly. And, with that, he kissed her. Lily didn't protest but moved into the kiss.

* * *

The Oscar Wilde quote is from _The Portrait of Dorian Grey_.


	39. The Dark is Rising

Part 39:  
The Dark is Rising  
(Sunday, November 13, 1977 - Continued...)

The Dark Lord was furious. His maroon eyes flashed with anger, even his beloved snake seemed incensed by her master's anger. The large snake was curled in the corner, her golden eyes peering at the group of Death Eaters. The Death Eaters stared at their master, stiff with fear, but none looked as frightened as Rastaban. Bellatrix was completely different than her cohorts, she seemed ecstatic at their master's furor. "You have had **ample** time to provide my demand, Rassstaban," the man hissed.

Rastaban paled noticeably as his master's pupils became slits like a snake's. "B--but, M--Master, there just hasn't been the opportunity, she is always surrounded…" he stammered.

"**NO EXCUSES!**" Voldemort screamed, rising from his blood-colored throne. Nagini's head disappeared into her coils. The older man seemed disappointed at his pet's reaction. "Now, see what you've made me do?"

He calmly sat down and the snake's eyes rose from the coils. The Dark Lord gestured toward the snake, and she cautiously slithered from her spot, her massive body brushing Rastaban's shoes on her way to her master. The snake's tongue flicked out, taking in the scent of his fear. It took all of the younger Lestrange brother's willpower to keep from jumping at the snake's display. Nagini made her way up Voldemort's throne and she lightly wound her body around her master. Voldemort lovingly stroked her chin, and the snake looked at the Death Eaters, pleased.

Preston Wilkes visibly shuddered. "You don't like Nagini, Preston?" Voldemort inquired.

"N--no, sir, s--she's a beauty," Wilkes managed.

"Indeed, she is," the Dark Lord said. There was a moment of affectionate silence as Voldemort examined his pet. The display caused Lucius to raise a perfect, pale eyebrow. Voldemort's attention went back to the Death Eaters. "The thing **is**, Rastaban, I don't **care** how many people you have to kill to get the girl. I have been building my army for decades, and I have yet to strike fear in my enemies' hearts. The light slaying of Mudblood families just isn't good enough anymore."

Bellatrix allowed her lips to form a cold grin at the mention of killing Mudblood families. "My Lord," she purred. "What do you wish us to do?"

"It's time for fear," Voldemort stated. "No more random attacks. It is time that we take initiative. People should fear to say my name." A cold smile to match Bellatrix's crossed his pale face. "From this point on, we will leave a mark." He slid his hand to the pocket of his midnight-colored robes and retrieved his wand. "_Morsmordre!_"

As the word left his mouth, the Dark Mark shot forth. The underground chamber was bathed in poison-green light. The arches that surrounded the central area glowed with the light, illuminating the stone halls that led away. "From this point on, anytime you attack or kill, you will leave my mark in the air above it. Let them know what is coming, it is time." His gaze turned once more to Rastaban, and the younger man's Adam's apple bobbed frantically. "You **will** get me de Lioncourt, or Nagini will make a niccce, ssslow sssnack out of you."

Once more, the Dark Lord's pupils became snake-like slits. Rastaban was really beginning to wonder what side Severus was on. He looked around the room, noting that the boy was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

(Sunday, November 13, 1977 – Continued...)

As Hermione left the library with her arms full of books, she ran quite literally into Severus as he wandered through the hallways, trying to figure out what Flaherty was up to. The impact caused the petite, dark-haired girl to fall, her books sprawling out around her. "Well, hello, Severus," Hermione said with amusement.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't see you," Severus said as he helped gather her books for her.

"Obviously not," Hermione replied with a bit of a smile.

Severus's brow knit as he examined the books that he had picked up. "_Tyme Travel Theorie and Practis_, _The Art of Animating_," he said. "Been to the Restricted Section, I see." Hermione blew a curl out of her face and hurriedly grabbed the books from the greasy-haired teen. "You do realize that the reason they don't teach Animating here is because you can never tell when you give a life to something that's not **supposed** to have a life, it doesn't always act the way it should."

"It's not **life**," Hermione said. "You're not playing Dr. Frankenstein."

"What would you call it, then?"

Hermione thought on the idea of Riddle's diary for a long moment. Never had she ever heard of magic working that way. Sure, you could Transfigure a beetle into a button, but the beetles never stayed buttons. Everything had a natural order and eventually that hedgehog pincushion became a hedgehog again. Luckily, the pins would pop out without hurting the poor thing. "Um…" Hermione struggled with a phrase that could fit. "Cognizance."

"Cognizance?" Severus asked.

"Yes, I mean. You can't give life to something, it's impossible," she stated. "But you can give it awareness, allow it to react. But nothing can replicate life." The book was to help her understand how the Marauder's Map worked.

He looked at the other book he had picked up. "And time travel? You do know that it's strictly regulated. Only three Time-Turners exist in Europe."

Hermione **did** know. "It's called string theory," she readily replied.

"String…theory…" Severus said.

"The idea that time is like a ball of string. Bits and pieces touch one another, fade into each other. It's a quantum physics theory. I just wanted to see if the Wizarding World had it, too."

"Okay," Severus stated, giving her a curious look.

"Well, have a good night," she replied hastily, heading back toward her dormitory.

When she finally reached her destination, she was surprised to see James and Lily curled up on the sofa in the common room. Lily's head was pillowed on his chest, and Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling at the sight. The brunette gingerly placed her books on the end table, headed into her dorm, and grabbed Lily's comforter. She went back into the common room and tucked the blanket around the couple. "Sleep well."


	40. Darkness Descends

Part 40:  
Darkness Descends  
(Friday, December 2, 1977)

"Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Draco said. "No." He shook his head no. "If you're not doing anything tomorrow, would you like to hang out with me in Hogsmeade?"

"Oh, of course, Drakey-wakey," James called in a high-pitched girly voice. "I would absolutely wub to spend time with you."

Draco turned to face the gangly, black-haired boy and scowled as James, Sirius, and Peter entered the Head Boy's room. "You're asking her out on a date," Sirius said. "It's really not that difficult."

"How would **YOU** go about it?" Draco huffed.

Sirius smiled, showing perfectly-straight, pearly-white teeth and dimples in his cheeks. He moved toward Draco, causing Draco to unconsciously back away. The blonde grunted as he backed into the wall. Sirius placed a hand on the wall a little above Draco's shoulder. Sirius's smile turned into a full-on grin in his tanned face, revealing another dimple in his chin. "So, Hermione," he said finally. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade. You and me and a nice romantic evening at Madame Puddifoot's." Sirius smirked and stood up, pulling himself to his full height, a few inches taller than Draco's wiry frame.

"You actually used that on Hermione?" Draco asked with a hint of disbelief.

"It actually took a few tries," Sirius admitted, rubbing the nape of his neck.

"She got sick of him hitting on her so she finally gave in," Peter piped up. He paused and thought it over. "I think it took twelve times?"

Sirius pouted, and Draco rolled his eyes. "But it worked on a lot of girls," Sirius defended himself, casting a glare at the chubby, beady-eyed boy.

"Hermione **isn't** a lot of girls," Draco replied.

When Hermione entered the Head Common Room, she found Lily hunched over and glaring at a paper spread out on the table. Her jaw was set, and Hermione could tell she was grinding her teeth. "Bad test?" Hermione asked, and Lily turned to look at her.

Lily's face was pale and drawn as she stared at the newspaper spread out on the table before her. Hermione's gaze turned to the paper. It took her a moment to realize what it was. In the corner of the fifth page of the _Daily Prophet_ was a barely-noticeable blurb.

DEATH EATERS  
On November 5, a group of wizards calling themselves "Death Eaters" attacked South Lancashire during a Muggle holiday called "Guy Fawkes Night." 15 are believed dead, and numerous people were injured. Several teams of Aurors were called on-site to fix memories.

Hermione stared at it for a moment and then turned to the front page: "WEIRD SISTERS PLAY STONEHENGE". Hermione sat beside Lily, a look of shock on her face. "Fifteen people are dead, their families ruined, and all the paper can talk about is the Weird Sisters?" she asked, her voice a bit breathy.

Lily nodded, and Hermione looked at her. "Muggles don't count, don't you know?" Lily's voice was poisonous. The brunette was taken aback by her rage, but she clearly understood what Lily felt. "There are people being killed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters daily, and the paper only talks about it occasionally. Muggle-borns are being killed, too. They don't matter either. The paper occasionally talks about it. Haven't you seen how letters have dropped off for a lot of Muggle-borns? A lot of their families are being killed, but no one cares because they're not pure. They're Mudbloods. Well, you know what, Hermione? I **AM** a Mudblood, and I am **DAMN** proud of it. "

Hermione stared at Lily, mouth agape. She had never seen anyone talk about being a Mudblood as if it was a good thing. "They talk about us, like we're dirty, like we're not good enough. But, I make the best grades in the entire school, I can make something out of nothing," she said. "I can wield a wand better than those inbred purebloods any day of the year. And I don't have to hurt someone to prove it. They're worse than Guy Fawkes. Some people consider him a hero, strangely enough. But he wanted to destroy the government to just set up a puppet government for the Pope."

"I know all about Guy Fawkes night," Hermione said. "My parents used to talk about begging for 'a penny for the guy.' They had a lot of fun. I mean, where I come from, they don't really talk much about Death Eaters. It took them a long time to accept they even existed."

"Someone needs to stop this Voldemort guy before he destroys all of us," Lily said simply.

Hermione's brown eyes met Lily's green ones. "Someone will," Hermione assured Lily.

* * *

Saturday, December 3, 1977

At breakfast the next morning, Hermione took note of the lack of owls delivering letters and felt her stomach drop. She wondered how many of the people in this room had lost loved ones to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. She sat at the Slytherin table as far away from the others as she could manage. How many of the people at her table were Death Eaters? It made her sick. How come people could think of Muggles and Muggle-borns as less than human? If anything, Muggle-borns should be appreciated for the sheer fact that they had overcome their family's lack of magic to become witches and wizards themselves.

She felt guilt rise in her. She had pretty much disowned her family once she had gotten to Hogwarts. It was like they were in two different worlds; which they were. She hadn't really even tried to bridge the gap; she mostly just ended fights with "it's a wizarding thing, you wouldn't understand." She resolved that if she ever got back home, she would try to make amends. If it wasn't too late. Suddenly, it hit her. Voldemort was free in her time, flanked by a bunch of Death Eaters. If they were killing people in this time, what was to stop them from killing people in her time?

She paled noticeably, her freckles stark against her suddenly-pallid skin. What if her parents were already dead? Voldemort knew who she was; knew that she was one of Harry's closest friends. She had no idea how long she'd been gone in her present time. It could have been instantaneous, days, weeks, months. Had it been even longer than that? She had been so lost in the past that she hadn't really been thinking about what had been going on in her present. Were the people she had known even still alive? Would she ever see them again?

It had been three months since she and Draco had ended up in the past, and she had settled in. Winter break was fast approaching. Then Easter Break. Hermione wouldn't have any trouble staying at the school for the breaks, but what would she do for summer break? She swallowed hard, panic rising in her chest. How would she be able to stand back and let her newfound friends die? "Hermione, are you okay?" Draco's voice came from behind before he slid onto the bench beside her.

"I'm alright," she said. Her voice was soft and heavy with emotion.

"You don't look alright," he said with concern.

"Do you ever think of home?" she asked.

The barest hint of a smile quirked his lips, giving his angular face a smooth, boyish look. "All the time," he admitted. "I miss my parents not hitting on me. My mum also made - makes, **will** make - the best treacle."

"Your mom cooks?" Hermione asked, examining the blonde woman at the end of table. She gesticulated to a group of girls surrounding her like a queen attending her court. "I have trouble believing that."

"Just because we have house-elves doesn't mean that Mum isn't a regular June Cleaver."

"You know who the Cleavers are?" She paused for a moment. "Peter."

"Peter," Draco repeated. "But I'd miss the boys more. I never really had friends before."

"Shocking," she said sarcastically. "You weren't exactly Mr. Congeniality."

"And I am now?" he asked.

"Sometimes," Hermione replied. "You've definitely grown up since we've been here."

"Is that so?" The curly-haired brunette nodded. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Hmmm…I'll have to think about that," she said, smiling slightly.

"Am I grown up enough to go out on a date with you?" Draco asked. Hermione looked up at him with surprise.

"You're trying to seduce me, Mr. Malfoy, aren't you?"

Draco blanched. "Merlin, don't ever call me that again," he said. "I still have nightmares about my dad hitting on us."

Hermione bit back a smile but couldn't suppress a couple of snickers. "Deal," she said. "I'd like that. The date thing. With you."

Draco grinned, showing off his dimples. Hermione couldn't resist a smile herself. "How about this afternoon? Hogsmeade?"

"As long as we avoid Madame Puddifoot's," she said. "It's so…cheesy."

"Sirius?"

Hermione nodded. "Sirius," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "He thought it had ambiance." She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Draco chuckled. "That sounds like Sirius," he said. He gave Hermione a peck on the cheek and walked over to the Gryffindor table.

"She said yes?" Peter asked.

A stupid grin crossed Draco's lips. "She said yes," he said.

Sirius polished his nails on his robe. "Works every time," Sirius stated.

Draco shook his head no. "I didn't use your approach," he replied.

"But…but…it's classic," Sirius stammered.

"She didn't like Madame Puddifoot's either," Draco said.

"But women love it…" Sirius started.

"What'd I miss?" James asked as he sat down by Sirius. His hair was more mussed than usual, his tie rather askew. He straightened his tie and glasses as Lily sat on his other side. She looked somewhat mussed herself.

"Draco and Hermione have a date," Peter said in a sing-song voice.

"Congratulations," Lily said. James kissed her forehead and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. Her arm slid around his waist under his robes.

"Ugh. I can't take this," Sirius whined. He looked at Peter. "James has got a date. Draco's got a date. I guess it's just you and me, Wormtail." Peter shook his head no. "You? You've got a date, too."

Peter nodded, his eyes looking at a girl sitting at the Hufflepuff table. "With Marlene McKinnon." His eyes looked across the room at a chubby girl with pigtails. She gave him a little wave, and he grinned wide; his face turning a brilliant shade of red.

Sirius banged his head on the table. "Maybe if you weren't such a pain, then you'd actually have dates," a voice came from behind. The three boys looked to see Remus.

"Moony," James said with a grin. "It's good to see you again."

The sandy-haired boy sat across the table. "Yeah, well, I had a lot of time to think. It's your choice," he said, swallowing hard. Now, he looked at Sirius. "There's still a lot of time."

Lily looked curiously at Remus. "Did I miss something?" she asked.

"Nothing to worry your pretty little head over," James stated, and Lily elbowed his side hard.

"Don't patronize me," Lily stated.

"I wouldn't dare," he said. That earned him another elbow from his girlfriend, and Sirius snickered.

"Love hurts," Sirius stated.

"So it would seem," James said. "So, Lily, my love, what would you like to do today?"

"I think you've earned clothes shopping," Lily stated. James looked pained.

Sirius grinned. "Maybe it's not so bad. I'm a lone wolf. Sole survivor …" he started. Then he slumped over and rested his cheek on his hand. "That really sounds boring."

"We could hang out," Remus suggested with a shrug.

"Sounds good. A lot more fun than clothes shopping," Sirius said, sending a snide look at James.

"Swimsuit shopping," Lily said with a grin.

"James, my man, can we come along?" Sirius asked, his pale-blue eyes widening. "Pretty please?"

"Eh. Nah," James said, brushing a strand of Lily's auburn hair out of her face.

Sirius looked at Remus. "Well, I guess that makes it official. Everybody's paired off. You ever think that the world's a giant game of musical chairs, and the music's stopped, and we're the only ones who don't have a chair?" Remus arched a brow in response.

Hermione and Draco sat in the Three Broomsticks, nursing butterbeers. So far, it had been an awkwardly silent date. "You look really lovely," Draco said.

Hermione seemed startled that the lengthy silence had been broken and jerked, nearly knocking her drink off the table. She smiled sheepishly and scooted the drink back toward the center of the table. She looked down at the simple pale-blue dress she wore.

"Thanks, you look good, too," she said. He wore a silver button-up shirt and black slacks. "Your eyes really are amazing with that color."

Draco blushed. "Oh, my God! Did you just blush?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he said dramatically. She giggled. There was another silence; more companionable, less awkward.

The brunette looked past Draco's shoulder and cocked her head curiously. He turned around to follow her line of sight. In the corner, a couple were snuggling and kissing over a drink with two straws. It took the blonde a moment before he realized who they were: his parents. He rolled his eyes, but realized that his parents' snogging was much, much better than his mother attempting to snog him. Lucius Malfoy only had eyes for Narcissa.

"Wow…" Hermione said. "They seem…cozy."

The blonde winced. "We've seen them cozier," he stated. She grimaced at the memory. "They've always been like that. Just not half-naked like that one time…that I am still vainly trying to forget."

"I thought they were betrothed?" she said.

"They were," he replied. He took a sip from his butterbeer. "Betrothal is…it's complicated. Sometimes, you find a real love match. My grandparents hated each other - I'm pretty sure that she poisoned him. Whilst Grandfather's brother found a real love match with someone just as stone-cold crazy as he was."

"Grandfather's brother?"

"Padfoot's dad," Draco explained. "Some arranged marriages are a happily ever after; many aren't. My parents got lucky. It's part of the joy of being a pureblood."

"I understand that," she finally said.

"You do?"

"My grandparents have peerage," she said. At his confused look, she elaborated, "They're titled; the upper class. My grandfather's an earl. They raised my mother like that. She was part of high society, but rebelled when she was of age. She refused to be a trophy wife, marrying for money and title. She went to dental school, and that's where she met my dad. I was the Rumpelstiltskin child."

"'Rumpelstiltskin child'?"

"My parents gave me to my grandparents whenever they wanted me to keep my grandparents appeased. I spent my summers at my grandparents' estate, learning etiquette and all of the things every young lady needs to know," she said, rolling her doe-brown eyes heavenward. "Which forks to use, what words to use. That sort of thing."

A sad smile crossed Draco's full lips. "It's not all it's cut out to be, is it?" he asked. She shook her head in the negative. "You never told me that before."

She shrugged. "You never asked. I mean, when we were friends back in first year, we were only friends for sixty-one days."

"Sixty," he said. "Remember. It was September second, and I was hiding from Pansy in the library—"

"The last place she'd ever look," Hermione added. "You ran into me and knocked my books out of my hands. I got angry at you."

"And I was about to yell at you for getting in my way, when I saw what you were reading," he said. "You were actually reading _The Alchymst_. You were the first person I ever met that had an interest in alchemy."

"It's a dead art," she said. "People just took bits and pieces and applied it to Arithmancy and Runes."

He chuckled. "That's exactly what you said then," he replied. "Then you said, 'I can't wait until I get to take Runes and Arithmancy.' You're one of a kind, Hermione Granger. I shouldn't have listened to my parents. I should have stayed friends with you."

"You should have, but that's in the past now."

"Technically, in the future." He shook his head. "This entire thing still gives me a headache. But I think it's been good for us."

"The past thing?" she inquired. "But - think about it - if we were in our own time, this wouldn't be happening. I'd probably be with Harry and Ron at Zonko's or Honeydukes. You'd be-"

"Here, probably, with Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle."

"And if we saw each other, it'd be snide remarks and taunting," she added. Her finger began to trace the wood grain on the table. "If we went back, what would happen?"

"First off, I'd need a lot of therapy," he stated with a quirk of his full lips.

Hermione chuckled. "Well, that's an understatement," she said. "Then what?"

Draco didn't get to reply. Suddenly, there was a tremendous explosion. Draco grabbed Hermione and dragged her under the table. The ground shook and mugs crashed to the ground, smashing their contents to the floor. The front window imploded, spraying glass throughout the pub. A shard of glass sliced open Draco's cheek, drawing a long line just below his left cheekbone.

The blonde grunted; the thin line growing red as blood colored it. "I can…" Hermione started.

"It's not that bad." Draco wiped the blood off his face with the sleeve of his shirt and looked up toward the broken window. The air was filled with a jaundiced light, and he stood up. "Stay here," he hissed at Hermione. He picked his way through the debris. No one seemed really hurt as far as he could tell; they were more stunned.

The brunette gave him a look. "Not on your life," she said, following him. They peered out the window frame to find the quaint cobblestone street that was now a crater, smoking with vile, brimstone-tainted smoke. "Oh, my God…"

The smoke bubbled through the street, choking the people with the stench of rotten eggs. Hermione moved to climb out the window, and Draco grabbed her arm. "No," he ordered.

She squinted, and she could make out shadows in the foul-smelling smoke. The smoke began to clear, and the shadows took shape. Death Eaters. More than Hermione had ever seen before. In the middle was a tall, dark-haired, handsome older man with black hair and graying temples. He was the only one not wearing a mask. He carried himself with confidence, surveying the destruction with the barest hint of a smile. Chills ran down Hermione's smile. This was Voldemort.

"It's a sad state of affairs," he finally spoke. "Mudbloods and half-bloods, and disgusting Muggle-lovers have taken over our world. They pollute our blood, creating Squibs, worthless creatures with no magic whatsoever." He looked over the people who peered out of the shops.

The smoke dissipated completely, and Hermione and Draco could make out a woman being dragged to Voldemort. She was vaguely familiar to Hermione; it took her a moment before she realized that the woman was Delia, the Frenchwoman from the shop where Hermione and Lily had done their Halloween shopping. She struggled vainly against the two Death Eaters that were bringing her to their lord. "Mudbloods are integrating themselves into our daily lives, taking over the few pure Wizarding towns still left behind. Muggles taint **everything**."

Voldemort grabbed Delia's chin, squeezing it between his long fingers, and she began to plead in French. "I don't speak French."

"We have to help her!" Hermione said, jumping through the window, Draco on her tail. Before Hermione could reach the woman, a stream of green light hit the middle of her chest, and she collapsed. Hermione stopped mid-step, staring at Delia with horror.

Hermione had never seen anyone die before, and bile rose up her throat as she remembered how she had wished she could see thestrals only a few months before. It was so quick, so…brutal. One second, there was that spark of life and then there was nothing but an empty shell. Voldemort stepped over the corpse, the hem of his robes brushing her face.

He took a few steps forward as another figure was dragged toward him. A tall, pretty, slender redhead was between two hulking men. She fought, kicking and lashing out at the men as much as she could. Hermione and Draco realized that the young woman was Lily.

Behind her, two even bigger men held James. He was fighting hard, giving the two men a beating, but they still held him tightly. "_Crucio_!" Voldemort growled. James ground his teeth hard, doubling over. James's chest heaved as the dark wizard kept his wand trained on him.

A few others were racing toward Voldemort as well, Hermione picked out Peter, Sirius, and Remus. All of them had their wands drawn and came in from different directions. A cold smile twisted the Dark Lord's handsome face.

With a twitch of Voldemort's wand, almost like a conductor conducting an orchestra, Peter doubled over and screamed, falling to his knees. Remus grumbled something under his breath, and one of the men holding James was thrown back. The other man was taken aback by the loss of his partner, and James body-checked the Death Eater, effectively freeing himself.

James tackled one of the men holding Lily, and dragged her away from her second captor. Hermione, Draco, Remus, Sirius, and Peter - who had recovered from the hex that Voldemort had sent his way - joined Lily and James in front of the Dark Lord. "Isn't this sssweet," Voldemort said, his voice hissing. "All of this trouble for a Mudblood."

"Don't call her that!" James growled, pulling Lily in close and protecting her with his body. Hermione looked around, swallowing hard as she realized that the Death Eaters had formed a tight ring around them. She tried to see around them, but was unable to do so. It didn't look like anyone would help them so they would have to fight this on their own. Her hand twined with Draco's, squeezing it tightly.

Draco swallowed hard, looking around. Even with the masks on, he could make out who some of them were. "Go for Rosier; he's weak, he'll take down Dolohov and Rodolphus." He nodded toward one of the figures. Hermione nodded. Ah, yes, Dolohov, the monster who had attacked her in the Ministry of Magic.

"This doesn't look good for our young heroes," a voice came and Hermione immediately recognized it as Professor Faust's. Well, that explained a lot.

"Padfoot," Remus said. "Head toward the Three Broomsticks. Wormtail, Gladrags. Prongs, take Lily toward Zonko's. Whiskers, head toward the Hog's Head. If we each go a different direction, we might stand a better chance. Breaking them into smaller groups."

Voldemort muttered a curse under his breath and the group of Gryffindors and a Slytherin were frozen in place. He grabbed Lily by her hair and dragged her away from the rest of the group. The Death Eaters parted to let their leader out from the ring. He pulled Lily to the center of the street. "You see this…**THING** right here?" he hissed. "This disgusting creature is a Mudblood. If you value yourselves, you will join me in destroying them all."

The redhead used his momentary distraction to jab an elbow hard into the Dark Lord's solar-plexus. A perplexed look came over his face for a split-second before he doubled over, clutching his abdomen. Lily raced forward, her wand dancing through the air. Three of the Death Eaters were thrown aside, giving the people trapped between the Death Eaters an escape route.

Draco, Hermione, Peter, Remus, Sirius, and James shot out through the opening. "_Stupefy!_" Draco shouted, stunning a Death Eater.

Almost at the same time, Sirius let out a cry of "_Stupefy!_" and another Death Eater was stunned. The Death Eaters and Voldemort were startled by the fact that the seven people were actually intending to fight them. The bewilderment was temporary before they started fighting back. One of the Death Eaters lashed out with his wand, and Hermione grunted as her breath was temporarily knocked out of her.

Draco grabbed her and dragged her behind the corner of one of the buildings in Hogsmeade's main street. "We have to get them out of town," she said, panting hard. "There are too many people here. They could be killed."

"Yeah, I'm more worried about us right now," Draco said, ducking out from behind the building to lob a spell at one of the Death Eaters. The Death Eater returned with a spell that hit the corner of the building they stood behind. The two flattened themselves against the wall, getting littered by a spray of brick dust.

Hermione peered around the crumbling corner of the building. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" she cried, and a Death Eater collapsed. She was able to use the curse once more on another Death Eater before retaliation, more brick dust caked Draco and Hermione, and a chunk of brick scraped Hermione's arm. She looked to Draco, panting. "I'm not sure how much longer we can hold them off."

In the distance, she could make out the voices of her friends shouting curses at the Death Eaters, and the Death Eaters' retaliating curses. "Hey, Hermione, Whiskers, how are you holding up?" Sirius yelled.

"Never better!" Draco shouted back. "You?"

"Bloody brilliant!" Sirius cried. Hermione realized that the back-and-forth banter was probably not the best strategy but at least it relieved some of the tension. If Sirius was injured, he wasn't badly injured. "Prongs?"

"We're alright," James called. "How 'bout you, Moony?"

Remus uttered a spell and then replied, "Wormtail and I are holding up pretty well." A Death Eater sent a curse flying at Hermione and Draco, the wall crumbling even more. The entire building was beginning to look rather shaky. She grabbed his hand and raced across the stone alleyway just in time for the wall a great chunk of wall to cave in at the corner, leaving a gaping hole in the corner of the little café they had been hiding behind.

The new position that they had taken allowed them to view the main street of Hogsmeade, a small group of Death Eaters still stood in the middle of the road, lashing out at spells coming from behind various corners. Other Death Eaters had also taken cover behind corners and buildings like the Marauders, Hermione, and Lily.

"Are you two alright?" a woman's voice came from behind them. Hermione looked to see who the voice's source was: a tall woman with a round face, shoulder-length black hair, and bright blue eyes. She knew who she was without an introduction; she was looking at Alice Longbottom. Alice moved slowly alongside the building until she was in front of them. She lashed out with a couple of curses, and two of the Death Eaters in the middle of the road were knocked over. Just as the others moved to retreat toward the relative security of hiding behind buildings like their cohorts had, they were knocked down as well.

There were a lot more wands now, Draco noted. It looked like they had finally gotten some backup, which was a relief. Neither of them was quite sure how long they'd been fighting, but they were starting to get tired. With Alice's help, they felt a lot better and threw themselves back into the battle raging around them. Spells flew through the air, and then there was silence. A silver sparrow flitted through the air and landed on Alice's shoulder before dissipated. She smiled.

"That's the all-clear," Alice told them. "_Expecto Patronum_." A wisp of silver spilled from her wand and formed into a toad and hopped across the way. Hermione smiled. "I like toads."

Cautiously, the three of them edged their way out from behind the building and into the town center. Once they were out of hiding, they saw just how much damage Hogsmeade had endured. There wasn't a window overlooking the road that was intact, the glass glittering in the streets. All of the buildings were damaged, and in some cases, the damage to the buildings was great enough to show the interior. Smoke, both from the fires the spell had caused and the greenish-yellow fog the Death Eaters had used, curled up from the buildings and darkened the sky.

Slowly, they were joined by the rest of their group. Sirius had a particularly-nasty-looking burn on his chest, the edges of his shirt burnt around it; he looked more upset about his clothes than the wound he bore. The left side of Lily's face was badly-bruised; a knot above her left eye was crusted over with dried blood, and her left eye was swollen shut. James wrapped an arm around Lily's waist; his glasses were broken and bent, cuts and scrapes were all over his face and neck, and his arm was obviously broken. Remus was covered in soot, his right arm limp by his side. Peter's ankle was either twisted or broken, and Remus had to help him hobble to the rest of the group. Hermione and Draco had fared better than the rest of their friends, only dust and soot and the cut on Draco's face.

Marlene, the Hufflepuff Peter had taken to Hogsmeade, raced over as she saw her injured date. She took his other side, helping him to stand. The blonde looked like she, too, had been a part of the fray, her blond hair was burnt, shortening it by several inches, soot coating her. She had a deep cut that trailed down from her shoulder down to her wrist, caked in dried blood. Peter frowned as he saw her injury and examined her arm. They were rather cute together.

Alice hugged a short, chubby man with thinning hair, and he smiled: Frank Longbottom. A younger, less-scarred Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, his eyeball fluttering around in his head, constantly on-guard. Dumbledore. Hagrid. The rest of the people, Hermione and Draco recognized from the photograph that Moody had given Harry: the stern-looking, tall, woman just this side of elderly with violet-blue eyes, and long black hair with a streak of gray tied back in a tight braid down her back was Dorcas Meadowes; the tall, red-haired man with brown eyes and a beard was Fabian Prewett; the identical but beardless man was Gideon Prewett; the short, thin man with hazel eyes and straw-colored hair was Sturgis Podmore; the petite, chubby brunette with brown eyes and freckles was Emmeline Vance; the bearded blond man with pale-green eyes who hugged her was Benjy Fenwick; the middle-aged black-haired man with brown eyes and the bare-beginnings of crow's feet and smile lines was Edgar Bones; Dedalus Diggle was the thin, tiny, elderly man with white hair in the purple felt top hat and matching suit; the elderly, chubby man with a shining bald spot was Elphias Doge; and the last person to join them was a tall, muscular man with reddish-brown hair and blue eyes was Caradoc Dearborn, who gasped as he saw the too-still form of Delia.

He scooped her into his arms, and held her close, tears sliding down his dust-and-soot-covered cheeks. "My Delia," he murmured, stroking her dark hair lovingly. Alice frowned, kneeling beside him and rubbing his back.

"Here, we'll help you bury her," she said softly. The Order of the Phoenix watched solemnly for a moment before helping Caradoc and Delia's corpse Disapparate. In the distance, Delia's costume shop was a smoldering pile of ruins.

Nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I know it's been an incredibly long time since I updated, but I've had a steady case of writer's block since _Deathly Hallows_. I really have been working hard on this chapter, determined to hopefully make it worth the wait. I'm not very good at fighting so that part was the most difficult. I have every intention of finishing this story if it kills me, so please stop asking for the next chapter or if it's a dead story.


	41. Aftermath

Part 41:  
Aftermath  
(Saturday, December 3, 1977 – Continued…)

Once they were back at Hogwarts, the injured students ended up in the infirmary. Most of them were taken care of in minutes but the trauma of their first real fight against the Dark Arts was something that a couple of minutes and some healing spells and potions couldn't really fix. Sirius's wounds were the most severe, and so he had to stay overnight. Regulus, Remus, Hermione, and Draco sat on one bed flanking Sirius's; James, Lily, Marlene, and Peter sat on the bed on Sirius's other side.

Sirius was shirtless, his chest and upper left arm and shoulder were heavily bandaged, and he glared at his wound. The burns that they'd seen on him earlier had just been the pre-show. "I don't get why I have to stay here tonight," he groaned.

"You had third-degree burns," Hermione said. "That's why. It burned down to your bones." She looked up at him. "The fact that you survived at all is amazing." Sirius preened at her comment.

Regulus looked at his older brother. "He's a Black; we're made of strong stuff," he said of his older brother.

James and Draco exchanged a look. "Almost everyone in this room is a Black one way or another. My mum was a Black," James stated.

"Mine, too," Draco said.

"Well, you purebloods are all just a banjo or two away from _Deliverance_," Hermione quipped.

Remus and Peter winced at her comment. "That movie gave me nightmares," Peter said. "I've never been able to eat bacon since."

"It's getting late, and Mr. Black needs his rest," Madam Pomfrey said, making a shooing motion with her hands. She retreated back into a little room off the infirmary where she made her potions and poultices, leaving them time to say their goodnights.

James ruffled Sirius's hair. "Get better, mate," he said, and Lily gave Sirius a peck on the forehead.

"What about here?" he asked, gesturing to his lips. The redhead rolled her eyes and shook her head. James took her hand as they exited the infirmary.

"If you're not better by Monday, I'll take notes for you," Remus said.

"Will you do my homework for me?" Sirius asked, giving Remus puppy-dog eyes. Something at which, not surprisingly, he was really quite good.

"Sorry, mate, I don't do other people's homework," the sandy-haired teen said, and Sirius groaned as Remus left.

"I'll be by tomorrow, I'll bring Moony's turntable and that new album you got, the one about the _bollocks_," he whispered the last word, and a blush colored his round cheeks. The dark-haired boy grinned at Peter.

"I definitely feel the need for a little 'Anarchy in the UK,'" the black-haired teen replied.

Marlene smiled shyly at Sirius, giving him a little wave. She winced slightly at the motion and rubbed her arm. "It was, uh, nice to meet you," she said. The blonde headed toward the door and the short, mousy-haired boy followed quickly after. Peter cautiously took her hand in his, and gave the room a bright grin when she accepted his hand-holding. "I—I really enjoyed myself…although, I wish, you know, it hadn't, uh, gotten so violent. C—can we maybe have a redo?"

The chubby boy was stunned into silence before bobbing his head eagerly in the positive. The two disappeared from view, the faint strains of their conversation fading with their distance. Sirius just shook his head in stunned silence. "I can't believe he's got a girlfriend, and not me," he said.

Hermione smirked. "The moral of the story: don't be a pig," she told him, patting his head. "Get some rest, Sirius, and feel better in the morning."

"No kiss?" he asked with a pout.

"In your dreams," she replied, trying to hide a smile. Her smile was interrupted by a yawn that she barely smothered. "It's been a long day. I'll see you tomorrow. Hopefully, you'll be feeling better." She stretched and headed out of the infirmary.

"Tough luck, Padfoot," Draco said.

"So, how'd the date go?"

The pale boy groaned. "We were talking and getting along well, and then…well…the window exploded, and this happened." He gestured toward the thin, white line just under his left cheekbone. "When the Death Eaters did whatever they did, it cursed the glass. Who curses glass anyway?"

"You…were…attacked…by…glass…" Sirius managed before laughing. His laughter was short lived as it aggravated the burn wounds on his chest. He let out a painful hiss and clutched at the bandages wrapped around his torso. He smirked at Draco. "I think—I think it was Fiendfyre."

"Fiendfyre, really?" Draco asked, impressed. "I thought it was unstoppable. And, you know, will relieve any need for cremation."

"So did I. It just barely touched me for only a second or two. I really thought I was a goner there. My entire life passed before my eyes." He frowned at that. "I really, really need a life." He frowned, his brow wrinkling as he tried to remember. "I saw…I **think** I saw a Death Eater do a spell, and it went away, but then he was gone."

Draco's face was still for a long moment. "Don't do that again," he said. He elaborated, "Don't almost get killed again. You're one of the few people I can truly consider my friend. The world would be a lot worse without you."

There was a long moment of silence before Sirius cracked a smile. "Is this the part where we awkwardly hug and smack each other's backs?"

The blonde shook his head. "Merlin, no," he said, grinning back. "But I will accept a handshake. It's more…manly." Sirius chuckled, and the two shook hands. "Take care, Padfoot." Draco exited, leaving Sirius alone with his brother.

Regulus stared at his brother for the longest time, his hand sliding through his hair nervously. "Look, I know we've never really been close."

"You were always the golden boy," Sirius said with a shrug. "Until you became a Gryffindor. I have to thank you, by the way. The whole Gryffindor thing causing Mum to hide in her room really made my life." He smiled at the memory.

Regulus sat on the edge of Sirius's bed. "There's something I need to tell you."

The older boy frowned, his jaw clenching. "You're the Death Eater I saw."

The younger boy shook his head vehemently in the negative. "I was going to will be one," he said. "But I'm not." His brother gave him a blank look. "We've never really been that close, you and I. You spent most of your time dedicated to the sheer idea of pissing off Mum and Dad and then with James and the rest of your friends. And I, well, I've spent most of my time with Kreacher. I just want you to know, that you're still my brother, and I care about you."

"I never did understand why you would hang out with that disgusting house-elf."

"He only hated you because, before you were born, Mum treated him like her child. He told me." Sirius stared at his brother with disbelief. "In case you haven't noticed, Mum isn't all right upstairs." Their mother had been fairly old when she'd had them so it didn't surprise him that she would have dressed Kreacher up and pretended he was a child. It explained a lot of Kreacher's dislike for him, like the leaving dead rodents in his bed. "He's not so bad. You'd be crazy, too, if you were stuck with Mum all those years."

"Well, she **was** the main reason I moved out," Sirius replied. He couldn't believe he was about to say the next thing. "You could always, maybe, move in with James, his family, and me."

"It wouldn't be right to leave Kreacher there," Regulus said. "Besides, Mum and Dad adore me." He shrugged.

Madam Pomfrey re-entered the room and shot the younger Black a disapproving look. "Sirius needs his rest, Regulus," she stated.

"Yes, ma'am," the boy said. He looked at his older brother and gave him a smile. "It was nice talking to you."

Sirius smiled back. "It was surprisingly nice talking to you, too, little brother," he replied. Regulus threw his arms around his older brother, and Sirius let out a sharp cry of pain. Quickly, the younger boy pulled back, frowning at the pain etched across his brother's face. The usually-tan boy was as white as the sheets beneath him and sucked in deep breaths for a long moment. "It's okay."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow if—if that's okay," Regulus started.

"It's okay," Sirius replied. The brothers grinned, and Regulus exited the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey closing the door securely in his exit. For a moment or two, the younger Black could make out the sounds of the nurse worrying over his brother and chiding him for having visitors so late in his condition.

The teenager walked down the hall and ducked into an empty classroom. He fished under his shirt to retrieve the medallion he'd tucked beneath it. His fingers swept over the intricate design on its front and the ages poured over him. When the transformation was complete, Madigan Flaherty stood in Regulus Black's place.

A single teardrop rolled from a hard, blue eye that softened as it passed. The tear rolled over the wrinkles and folds and bags trailing a course through ages he hadn't lived yet before dripping off his chin and landing on the neck of his robe.

Slowly, he lifted the medallion to eye level, revealing a tiny hourglass with golden sand slowly shifting from one end to the other. The bottom half of the hourglass was slightly fuller than the top. No matter how many times he tried to shift the sands back, they simply wouldn't budge.

There wasn't much time left.

Despite leaving the infirmary at different times, the group of Marauders and their girlfriends ended up meeting again on their way to their rooms. Even though it was fairly late, there were still a lot of people walking around, most of whom seemed shell-shocked and wandered like zombies.

To James and Peter's surprise, their prefect friend hadn't given a single person out past curfew so much as a warning. Usually, every single person that Remus would see out after hours would get a stern talking-to and a detention with Filch. In the entire world, there were only three people who could ever make Remus break the rules, and they were all Marauders. James had always believed that Remus viewed following the rules as a way to undermine the chaos of his lycanthropy.

Even the other students still out seemed startled by Remus's lack of issuing detentions. Eventually, they came near the entrance to Hufflepuff House. Marlene smiled brightly at Peter. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said shyly before giving him a sound smack on the lips. Every inch of the chubby boy's exposed skin turned bright red, and he grinned moronically as she disappeared into the door by the kitchen.

"She kissed me," he said dumbly. James clapped him on the back.

"She did."

"You think she likes me?" the short boy asked.

"I think she does," Remus said with a slight smile. "Come on, lover boy, we'd better get to Gryffindor; it's getting late." The sandy-haired boy led the chubby boy toward Gryffindor tower, leaving the three Gryffindors and the Slytherin to head toward the Head Tower.

Hermione and Lily headed toward the Head Girls' Room, while the boys went to the room across the common room. She slumped against the intricately-carved poster of her bed winding her arms around her chest defensively. She looked at Hermione with a hollow look. "I'm going to, um, spend the night with James." Before Hermione could respond, she continued, "Nothing at all is going to happen. I—I just really need to be held tonight."

"I'm so sorry, Lily." Cautiously, Hermione wrapped her arms around the redhead, and Lily's arms moved to slowly hug the dark-haired girl back. In seconds, Lily was shaking, loud, choking sobs pouring from her.

"They were going to kill me," she finally managed, her tear-streaked face buried against Hermione's shoulder. Her voice was muffled by the fabric, but the younger girl could still make out what she was saying. "If James hadn't…or if he'd just been seconds late. I—if that monster hadn't decided to grandstand…I'd be gone." The brunette rubbed Lily's back soothingly. "I—I knew what was going to happen. I knew that h—he wanted me dead. I—I never felt so much anger before. It literally hurt. He looked at me l—like I was a roach to be squashed. I've never been so scared in my life."

She sobbed into Hermione's shoulder for several minutes more before pulling away and dabbing at her tear-stained face. "I saw him kill Delia right in front of me. She was one of the first witches I'd ever met, a Muggle-born like me, and she knew what it was like to be so lost in a strange, new world. She was working at Gladrags in Diagon Alley, saving up to buy her very own store. She wasn't that much older than me, and when I went in to order my Halloween costume, she told me about her engagement. Th—they were going to get married in the spring in Montmartre, where she grew up. Caradoc and Delia met when he was part of an exchange program with Beauxbatons. The strange, handsome Welshman, she called him. She was so excited."

The former-Gryffindor stared at the girl as she tried to collect herself. Lily had stopped crying, but she was still shaking with emotion. "I knew her. Staring death in the face like that…it—it really puts things in perspective, you know. I realized that I'm in love with James, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I don't want to die anytime soon. I want to grow up and have lots of little kids that look just like James, but, hopefully, I've been a good enough person that they won't end up acting like him."

The brunette had no words, but Lily's stabbed her like a knife. There would never been lots of little kids, only one son. A son who would be less than two years old when his parents would die. "Thanks for listening to me vent," Lily finally murmured, giving a wobbly smile to the other girl. Hermione's smile in return was weak and shaky. "I really needed it."

With a few more breaths, the redhead collected herself and exited the Head Girls' room and crossed the common room to enter the Head Boys' room. A few moments later, Draco exited carrying a blanket and pillow. Hermione peered out of the Head Girls' room and frowned when she saw Draco placing the blanket and pillow on one of the sofas.

"You can sleep in here tonight," Hermione said softly. The blonde jumped at the softly-spoken sentence and looked up at her.

She moved out of the doorway, allowing him entrance. Shyly, he entered the room, and Hermione closed the door behind him. "Um, you can either sleep in Lily's bed or, uh, in mine. **Just** sleep."

The blonde nodded and slipped between the silver-and-green sheets, Hermione joining him. It took some wiggling and squirming for them to both find a comfortable position, but they ended up with Hermione's arm over his side, her head pillowed on one arm, his free arm resting on her waist. Their eyes met, and they gave each other shy smiles. The smile faded but the glance lingered.

Hermione's heart pounded, her hand sliding up from his side to caress the new, barely-noticeable scar on his cheek. Lips met in a soft, tender kiss. After the kiss, the two smiled at each other, his hand caressing her dark curls. Their eyes closed, and they relaxed and snuggled into each other's arms, his cheek resting on her hair; the soft, vanilla-like scent of amber filled his nostrils.

"Hermione Granger, I think I love you," he murmured, his eyes opening to look at her. The girl was fast asleep, snoring ever-so-softly.


	42. The Order of the Phoenix

Part 42:  
The Order of the Phoenix  
(Sunday, December 4, 1977)

The morning dawned gray and cold. Overnight, the landscape had been iced with the season's first snow, and trees dripped with glittering icicles. The outside world had erased the previous afternoon's events, but the same could not be said within Hogwarts.

Breakfast was incredibly quiet; the only sound was a flurry of owls sending and receiving letters. As Hermione sat down at the Slytherin table, dozens of eyes went to her, and she glared them down. Her eyes wandered the Great Hall; it looked like half the Slytherins were gone, quite a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were gone as well, while most of the Gryffindors were still present.

The most notable difference wasn't the lack of students but the second table on the dais at the head of the Great Hall. It took her a moment to realize that the table was populated by the Order of the Phoenix. Alice and Frank Longbottom held hands and chatted, smiling widely. Alice saw Hermione looking at her and waved at her with a huge grin. Timidly, Hermione waved back.

Severus slumped into the seat beside the dark-haired girl, lost in thought. Truthfully, she was a little startled to see him. Her brown eyes examined him curiously. He looked like death warmed over; his sallow skin was much paler than usual, and there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. "You look terrible, Severus," the girl said, touching his left arm. A hiss came from him as if the touch had burned his skin.

He opened his mouth as if to speak but was interrupted by Dumbledore's magically-amplified voice. "After yesterday's attack, all visits to Hogsmeade are canceled until further notice. Classes have also been drastically-altered; starting tomorrow, all classes will now carry a focus on Defense Against the Dark Arts with assistance from our new teachers." He made a wide-sweeping motion to the second tier of teachers. "I'd like to introduce Alice Longbottom—" Alice stood at the mention of her name "—Frank Longbottom—" Frank joined his wife standing "—Caradoc Dearborn—" Caradoc stood, and Hermione noted the hard set to his face "—Alastor Moody—" Moody stood, glowering at the students, specifically at the Slytherin table "—Dorcas Meadowes—" Dorcas stood, smiling at the Ravenclaw House "—Emmeline Vance—" Emmeline smiled and waved at a girl at the Gryffindor table, who grinned back at her "—Edgar Bones—" Edgar stood and smiled at a boy sitting at the Hufflepuff table; the boy grimaced and slouched as not to be seen, and a younger girl sitting nearby elbowed him hard before waving at Edgar "—Sturgis Podmore—" Sturgis stood and bowed toward the students "—Fabian Prewett—" Fabian stood and grinned at the Gryffindor table "—and Gideon Prewett." Fabian's twin stood and grinned at the Gryffindors as well. The ten members of the Order of the Phoenix sat. "Each of these Aurors will be assigned to a teacher. We'd also like to welcome Professor Slughorn's return." Professor Slughorn waved to the students. "And Professor Flaherty will be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts due to Professor Faust's…unexpected abdication."

Some of the Slytherins paled noticeably at Dumbledore's comment, and the Gryffindor-turned-Slytherin watched them curiously. "Dueling Club is now mandatory for **all** students. No one will wander the grounds of Hogwarts alone, you must have at least one other person with you **at all times**_._ To ensure that all students are safe, we will now have prefects for years four and under, and we will also be replacing prefects who are no longer attending Hogwarts." "I need the following students to stay after breakfast…" Dumbledore read off a list of several students, including Draco and Hermione.

Breakfast continued after Dumbledore's comments, quiet and reserved. Eventually the students filtered out, keeping in groups like Dumbledore told them while the students Dumbledore called off stayed behind. Draco crossed the Great Hall to sit with Hermione. "All of you have been selected to be prefects." He moved between the tables, handing each student a prefect badge. Hermione stared at her silver badge with the Slytherin insignia and the words "PREFECT" above it in wonder before pinning it to her robe. She was a prefect again.

Draco examined his own prefect badge with curiosity; it was golden with the Gryffindor insignia. If they ever got home, they'd have to switch badges. If they ever got home. Truthfully, he hadn't really even thought about going home. He'd never really been happier; he had friends, and he didn't have to worry about what people thought about him, or what was wanted of him. It had been the best few months of his life.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" Draco asked. Hermione smiled and nodded. The two headed up to the Head house, changed into warmer clothes, and made their way out to the snow-covered grounds. Hand-in-hand, they meandered.

After a long, companionable silence with the crunch of snow beneath their feet the only soundtrack, Draco finally spoke. "I always loved the snow," he said. "It reminds me of my birthday."

Hermione cocked her head and looked up at him. "Isn't your birthday in June?" He smiled at the fact she remembered.

"Yes," he said. At his reply, she gave him a look. "Before Hogwarts, I used to spend my birthday at my grandmum's. She lives in New Zealand. So, a lot of the time, we'd have snow for my birthday."

"New Zealand? How'd your grandparents meet?"

"My father's father was sick of his family constantly having to marry the same families to maintain blood purity so he decided to find other pureblood families. He went all over the United Kingdom, and then all over Europe before he decided to go to Australia. From Australia, he ended up in New Zealand, and that's where he met my grandmother. After my grandfather died, she moved back there to her family estate. We'd always go there around my birthday, and I would always play in the snow. Once I enchanted a snowman so I could play with a little brother; my mother couldn't have any more children after me."

Hermione frowned slightly. "I have a younger sister, Annabel, but we've never been really close. She was born when I was seven, and I started at Hogwarts a few years later, so she doesn't really even know me. I think my parents like her better because she's a Muggle. She's like them; they understand that. I mean, how do you make them understand when they can't experience it themselves?"

Draco had no answer for her. Fluffy snowflakes, the consistency of goose down, began to float from the sky. Flakes clung to their hair and eyelashes, and Draco carefully swept one of the flakes from her cheek. Her skin was ruddy with cold. "You're freezing," he said.

"Cold."

"Well, then, let me warm you up." He gripped her hands, and even through the knit gloves, he could feel how cold her fingers were. They looked at one another for a long moment. Her hands slid beneath his robes to his shoulders, and he leaned over. Their lips met in a soft kiss, eyes closing as they melted into each other. Boy, he was doing a really good job of warming her up. The flakes continued their ballet around them, making the two look almost like the center of a snow globe.

Then, _splat_, a wet snowball hit them in their faces.

Laughter filled the air. Hermione and Draco pulled apart, wiping the snow off their cheeks to find Peter grinning cheekily at them. "You're dead, Wormtail," Draco muttered.

Peter's eyes grew wide, and he let out a squeak before running towards Marlene, Remus, Sirius, Lily, and James. The platinum-blonde scooped up a pile of snow, quickly forming it into a snowball, and hit the chubby teen in the shoulder. The snow exploded, wet slush hitting James. The black-haired boy wiped the snow off his glasses and glared at Draco.

James palmed a snowball and lashed out at the newly-minted Gryffindor prefect. Once again, Draco was hit by a snowball. The sixth-year struck back, but James moved out of the way at the last minute, and the snowball's trajectory sent it straight into Marlene's face.

The Hufflepuff seemed startled, and Draco opened his mouth to apologize only to have the tiny blonde hit him square in the face with another snowball. He ended up swallowing half the snow. He grinned at her, and shot a revenge snowball at her. The girl moved out of the way causing the snowball to hit Sirius.

Sirius wiped the snow away. "This means war!" he cried, sending another snowball at Draco and Hermione. This time, Hermione was caught in the crossfire, and she attacked with a well-aimed snowball to Sirius's stomach. The black-haired boy grunted. "Good arm on that one."

Within minutes, all eight of them were engaged in an epic snow battle. After yesterday's events, it was nice to just be able to have some fun again. No one escaped unscathed; they were all encrusted with the ice crystals as they re-entered the castle. After a few spells to dry their clothes, they ended up in the Head common room, sipping hot chocolate and warm butterbeer the boys had purloined from the kitchens in front of a cozy fire.

The door to the Head common room opened, and everyone looked up, startled. Dumbledore stood in the doorway, looking over the students. "I thought I would find you here," he replied, taking one of the empty seats.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," Lily greeted him. "What brings you here?"

His long fingers steepled in his lap as he looked over the eight of them. "Have any of you heard of the Order of the Phoenix?" The students exchanged confused looks until Hermione spoke.

"I have," she said.

"Very good, Miss de Lioncourt," Dumbledore stated merrily. "Why don't you explain it to your friends?"

The brunette swallowed hard. "The Order of the Phoenix is an organization of the best witches and wizards in the United Kingdom."

"I would like to extend an invitation for all of you to join the Order," he said. "Usually, we don't accept those under seventeen, but I think we can make an exception for Mr. Aquilus and Miss McKinnon."

James cocked his head and looked at Dumbledore. "You think we're great wizards?" Marlene, Lily, and Hermione looked at him. "And witches, of course."

"You were the only ones able to stand up to Voldemort and his Death Eaters," the headmaster stated. Sirius winced at the mention of the dark wizard's name. He had gotten Pomfrey to let him out early mostly because he threatened to be as bad of a patient as Draco. He was still incredibly sore and healing, though. "You each did an admirable job."

Peter's cheeks grew red at the compliment, and Marlene grinned at him. "So, what do you need from us?" Remus asked.

"Every evening, you will meet with other members of the Order and train," the headmaster told them. "Follow me."

"Now?" Peter asked.

"Now. The war has begun," Dumbledore stated.

"'Has begun?'" Lily asked, anger flashing in her green eyes. "It's been going on for **years**. Just because the victims were Muggles and Muggle-borns doesn't mean they don't count."

"I'm well aware of that. Voldemort is a dark wizard who has been collecting members called 'Death Eaters' for years. He has amassed a small-but-growing contingency of followers who wish to eradicate Muggles and Muggle-borns."

"He's doing a really good job so far," the redhead said. There was a sharp bitterness in her voice that startled the other students, and James placed a hand on her shoulder. Her hand covered James's. "I'm so tired of people dying for no good reason, and if there's anything I can do to get rid of that monster, then I'm your girl." There was a hard set to her face, and the seventeen-year-old suddenly looked a lot older than she was; Lily was holding something back, but Hermione decided not to pry.

"Come along, children," Dumbledore said. The group paired off behind Dumbledore as he led them through the castle. It was after hours, and since his earlier decree no one dared to leave their Houses after curfew; the sense of fear was thick in the air.

The group ended up at the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy. "Miss de Lioncourt, I believe you and Mr. Aquilus are quite familiar with the Room of Requirement." Dumbledore pulled the tapestry aside to reveal a long hallway before disappearing.

"Draco and Hermione, sittin' in–" Sirius started, and ended as he received a hard elbow in the stomach from Draco, and the black-haired boy grunted. "Will you bloody well watch out? I'm injured here."

"Sorry, I forgot," the blonde replied, smacking him in the back of the head. "Better?" Sirius glared at him.

The eight headed down the hallway, dropping the hanging back in its place. The hallway led to an enormous classroom with tall ceilings, walls lined with books. In front of the back bookcases, there were a couple of tables and chairs. The rest of the room was filled with strange items that most of them couldn't identify. Frank and Alice Longbottom were engaged in a duel, their wands whipping through the air.

The eight students watched in awe. The two fought confidently, silent spells shooting at one another. Then Frank was disarmed, the fight was over, and Alice shook her head in disdain. "I told you not to go easy on me," she said, a grin crossing her round face.

Frank panted hard, wiping some sweat off his brow as he looked at his wife. "Trust me, I wasn't going easy on you." They kissed, and Dumbledore cleared his throat. Frank turned bright red and looked over at Dumbledore. "We weren't expecting you quite yet."

"There wasn't much discussion," Dumbledore said. "Frank, Alice, meet James Potter, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Marlene McKinnon." He gestured toward the six students he'd named. "I believe you're familiar with Draco Aquilus and Hermione de Lioncourt."

"Hermione of the Lion's heart," Alice stated, her eyes went to the silver prefect badge Hermione wore. "And you're a Slytherin?"

"She gets that a lot," Draco replied.

"First of all, how many of you can produce Patronae?" Frank asked. Hermione, James, Remus, Lily, and Draco raised their hands. "Wow, so many of you? I'm impressed. That's usually not something that's taught in school."

"Professor, why would we need to know about Patronae?" Marlene asked.

"Call me Frank," he told her. "Voldemort has been gaining control of the dementors at Azkaban."

Sirius's eyes widened, and the rest of the students looked unsettled at the mention of dementors. "Dementors? Really?" he asked, his tan skin paling. Draco and Hermione stared at him for a long while, and Draco fought the urge to somehow find a way to reassure his friend. Thirteen years in Azkaban, surrounded by dementors.

"A Patronus is also useful as a fighter on your behalf, your Paladin," Alice said. Hermione looked up at the mention of Paladins, Remus seemed interested as well. The older woman's eyes turned to Hermione. "I understand that you produced a Paladin."

Hermione nodded nervously. "I have no idea how I did it, though," she defended. Alice gave her a smile.

"Okay, we'll need two groups. Marlene, Peter, Sirius, we'll teach you how to create your Patronae, come with me," Frank said, gesturing for the trio to join him at one side of the room. "Now, the spell is simple: _Expecto Patronum_." You must say this with all the force of happiness you can muster."

"Draco, Hermione, Lily, James, Remus, we'll teach you how to create a Paladin. On purpose."

Hermione looked at Draco with curiosity. "I didn't know you could produce a Patronus," she said.

"He took over the manor," he said simply. Hermione opened her mouth to question him further, but she soon realized what he had been saying. Voldemort had taken over Malfoy Manor, and the Dark Lord was in control of the dementors in their time as well. Well, at least they knew where to find him if they ever returned to their time. Truthfully, it all seemed so far away. It had only been a few months, but she felt at home.

"Let's start with you, Miss Evans," Alice told her.

"_Expecto Patronum_," Lily said, a stream of silver light flowed from her wand to turn into a doe, and James blushed at the sight, grinning sheepishly at her.

"Just lovely, Miss Evans," Alice said.

Across the room, Sirius saw the doe and looked from James to Lily. "Bloody hell, you told her? The more people you tell, the less fun it is for the rest of us," the tall, dark-haired boy muttered as another puff of silver mist was expelled from his wand.

"Think happy thoughts, Mr. Black," Frank told him.

"Do I look like bleeding Peter Pan?" he asked. "_Expecto Patronum_." Another wisp of silver smoke.

"Actually, Peter Pan didn't need to think happy thoughts," Marlene corrected him, and he scowled at her.

"Now you, Mr. Potter," Alice said. Another cry of _Expecto Patronum_, and a stag appeared from James's wand. The stag and doe nuzzled each other, and James and Lily shared a smile and held each other's hands. "Very good. And quite romantic. Mr. Lupin?"

"_Expecto Patronum_," Remus said. To Hermione and Draco's surprise, Remus's Patronus was a giant, silver wolf; his werewolf form. Alice nodded at his Patronus.

"Why would that be your Patronus?" Hermione asked. "I thought it was happy things."

Remus opened his mouth to demand why she would think that, then a few things clicked. Hermione's werewolf tutor. She'd known he was a werewolf probably longer than he'd known her. "It's not necessarily something that makes you happy, just something you're deeply tied to," Draco explained, and Remus nodded at him.

"Miss de Lioncourt?" Alice asked.

"_Expecto Patronum_," Hermione replied, a silvery otter hobbled around. The brunette grinned at the sight.

"Cute," Alice stated with a soft smile. "Your turn, Mr. Aquilus."

"_Expecto Patronum_," Draco stated. A puff of silver smoke was exhaled from his wand and formed into the shape of an owl. Hermione stared from the doe to the owl in shock.

"Sometimes, it **is** something that makes you happy," Lily told Hermione, noting the amazed look on the dark-haired girl's face. The girl's brown eyes followed the owl as it flew elegantly from the air, and Draco's cheeks flamed.

Alice looked from Hermione to Draco with a slight smile. "Very good, Draco," she said. "_Expecto Patronum_." A smoky canary flew free of her wand. "A Paladin isn't that dissimilar from a Patronus. Every spell you say takes a small amount of energy, even the Killing Curse doesn't take that much energy." Lily shivered. "A Paladin, on the other hand, takes massive amounts of energy, feeding directly off of you. If a Paladin is out too long, it may put you in a coma or even kill you by draining you completely. You take your Patronus and mold it like clay, feeding it with your energy, causing solidification. This may cause migraines and light-headedness. If you experience those symptoms, you **must** stop because it means that it is taking too much energy."

Alice held out her hand, and the canary landed on her finger. "I don't expect any of you to be able to create a Paladin on the first try, even you, Miss de Lioncourt. Even people who have even thoroughly trained to create Paladins may not be able to create them each time. It takes a lot of practice and a lot of knowing when to cut off the energy, but if the energy is cut off, the Paladin will disappear." She took a deep breath. "Now reach out for your Patronus with your mind, feel the invisible thread that binds you together. Pour your energy into it, mold it like clay."

As she spoke, the canary grew larger, easily as big as an eagle, and the silver color turned platinum, then a shade of rose gold, and then finally bright gold, gleaming like a Galleon. It was beautiful. "A Paladin, unlike a Patronus, can also physically attack wizards and witches, carry spells further than they'd ever go without the assistance, and even direct a spell to hit a specific target over kilometers." With a deep breath, the Paladin shrunk back into a Patronus and then dissipated.

Wow. Hermione was impressed. Until curfew, the students practiced on their Paladins and Patronae. The students were all unable to produce what they were learning by lesson's end, but it had felt fruitful. As they filtered out of the Room of Requirement, Frank reminded them of tomorrow's Dueling Club and their lessons.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Hermione?" Remus asked. Lily and James wandered off toward the Head House, Peter walked hand-in-hand with Marlene to drop her off at the Hufflepuff House.

"Um, sure," she said, following him away from the group. Draco followed her.

"That werewolf, you were talking about, was that me?" he asked. It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about.

"Yeah," she said. "You taught Defense Against the Dark Arts in our third year. Until Draco got you fired."

Remus looked at Draco. "You got me fired?"

"Um, technically, my father did, but, yeah…but I'm really sorry about that now for what it's worth," Draco replied.

"And Professor Longbottom, the Potions professor, made the potion for him? The Neville Longbottom one," Remus said.

"Neville Longbottom?" Draco asked, looking from Hermione to Remus.

"Not Neville Longbottom," Remus surmised.

"Neville's Frank and Alice's son," Hermione said.

"And you made him our Potions professor?" Draco demanded, looking at Hermione. "Hell, even Weasley's better at Potions than Neville. You're a really horrible liar."

"Shut up, Draco. And Ron's only better because I do his potions for him. Um, Professor Snape actually made the potion for you," the girl explained.

"Snape? As in **Snape**?" the werewolf demanded.

"Yes. So, you really should be nicer to him, Remus," the petite brunette told him.

He ignored the comment. "And you have no idea how to create that potion?" he asked.

"No, but we're working on it for our Potions project," Draco cut in.

"Really?" Remus asked.

"Really," Hermione confirmed. The sandy-haired youth gave them a smile before heading toward the Gryffindor House, leaving Draco and Hermione alone.

The two headed toward the Head House. "So, um, I—I have a question," Hermione said finally.

"What?"

"Um, your Patronus..." Another blush colored Draco's cheeks. Hermione found herself really enjoying his discomfort; he was so cute when he blushed.

"What about it?"

"It's an owl. You know, my, uh, Animagus form," she murmured. "Does that, uh…does that mean I make you happy?"

"More than you'll ever know, Granger," he murmured in response, brushing hair off her cheek, and she grinned up at him.

"I like that. You…you make me happy, too, Malfoy," she said. They kissed softly.

"That's so sweet," a feminine voice came, and Hermione looked up to see the painting of Lily and James that led into the Head House.

"Congrats," the voice of James came from his portrait. The two of them sat in a beautiful meadow surrounded by woods on top of a large, white, flat boulder. They snuggled against each other. "Ain't love grand?"

"It is," Draco murmured without thinking.

A blush colored Hermione's freckled cheeks. "Is there something you need to tell me?" she asked.

"There is." He took a deep breath. "I think I love you, Hermione Granger," he said, cupping her cheek. It was so incredibly bizarre. Four months ago, they had hated each other, but now everything was different.

She grinned at him. "I think I love you, too, Draco Malfoy." Another kiss, and the two walked hand-in-hand into the Head House to find James waiting up for them.

"Uh, hey, Lily's in the shower," he said. "I wanted to ask you something. What are you doing over Christmas break?"

The two looked at each other. They hadn't really thought it over. "I guess we're staying here," Hermione finally said.

"Would you, maybe, like to spend the winter break with my family?" he asked. "Sirius, Remus, and Peter will already be there." A goofy grin crossed his face. "And, uh, Lily. I'm going to ask her to marry me, and I just wanted all our friends to be there. Don't tell her. I couldn't tell Peter because, well, he can't keep a secret to save his life, but, yeah, I haven't really told anyone else either."

"Congrats," Draco said, repeating what the painting had said earlier. "I'd love to be there."

"Me, too," Hermione replied, hugging him. "Take care of her."

"Until my last breath."


	43. The Evil That Men Do

Part 43:  
The Evil That Men Do  
(Tuesday, December 25, 1979)

Once upon a time in a city called London lived a woman named Walburga Octavia Black. Walburga was the latest in a long line of Blacks, but unlike many of her relatives, who – to put it nicely – were rather unfortunate-looking, she had the cold beauty that some of her not-so-incestuous Slytherin kin possessed. This fact attracted a man named Orion Augustus Black, who just happened to be her third cousin. While their relationship wasn't as incestuous as some of her relatives', Walburga wasn't exactly enthused about the prospect of marrying Augustus, as he was known by the rest of the family.

With a lot of wooing on his part, she finally conceded when she realized just how few pureblood men there were to choose from. Unluckily for Augustus, what Walburga had in outer beauty, she more than made up for in inner crazy. Their union brought forth two sons: Sirius Orion (who had the unfortunate initials of "S.O.B.") and Regulus Arcturus. At first, as the oldest, Sirius was the golden child until his rebellious nature was brought out by his best friend and distant cousin, James Potter.

James and his parents, Dorea and Charlus, were very nearly blasted from the family tapestry because of James's impact on Sirius. Truthfully, if James hadn't turned out so handsome, or if he or his father had been redheads, they would have been removed as soon as Sirius moved in with the Potters. Walburga, who considered herself the keeper of the tapestry, had a deep-seated and highly-irrational fear of gingers. This had been why Cedrella Black-Weasley had _truly_ been removed from the family tapestry: she had dared marry a soulless red-haired man – pureblood or not. Poor Andromeda had been born with a shock of carrot-colored hair before it had fallen out and grown back the cinnamon-brown it was today; she had been removed long before Ted Tonks had ever entered her life.

Growing up, Regulus Arcturus Black knew his mother was incredibly unstable, but it didn't stop him from desperately coveting her affection or, at least, her attention. He had set out to be everything Sirius wasn't, or he had the first time around. The second time around, though, he finally realized that maybe his older brother had had the right idea. Truthfully, it hadn't even taken the entirety of his first time around to realize that he wasn't a monster like some of his fellow Death Eaters. Even Voldemort himself wasn't as monstrous as some of his Death Eaters.

Sadly enough, Regulus hadn't realized this fact until it was too late. No matter what, there were some things that he would never forget. The deciding moment had been when Rodolphus and Rastaban had gotten bored one night and decided to entertain themselves by torturing a Muggle girl. There were no words for what they had done to her; as long as Regulus lived, the girl's screams would haunt his nightmares.

After they were done, Regulus – as the youngest and newest Death Eater – had been sent into the dungeon to clean up. To his horror and surprise, the girl had survived although she was barely recognizable as human; blood was everywhere and the stench of burnt flesh and hair filled the air. Regulus had joined the Death Eaters to make his parents proud, not to be a murderer.

Apparently, the men had been testing out new curses and had thought they had killed the girl. Regulus could see how they would think that. He had only been able to tell she was still alive because between the dry heaves after he'd completely evacuated the contents of his stomach, he'd seen the slight rise and fall of her chest. He'd tested for a pulse and, though extremely faint, it was there. He couldn't just let her die.

Using his assignment to clean up the evidence, he took the girl's unconscious form and transported her to the nearest Muggle hospital. He didn't learn her name until weeks later when he'd seen a Muggle newspaper with a front-page story detailing the vicious murder of a couple and the torture and subsequent suicide of their only daughter, a sixteen-year-old named Moira Tindall who wanted nothing more than to be a doctor who worked in third-world countries and war zones to help the less fortunate.

The girl had been younger than him, made wonderful grades and no one could say a bad word about her because she was such a caring and good person. A person, a human being with hopes and dreams and goals. He had learned that if they had crossed paths in different circumstances, he would have liked her, maybe even loved her. She had been a better person than he'd ever been or probably would become, and she had been destroyed because she didn't have magic. He'd heard her screaming as she was tormented, and he'd done nothing to help. Honestly, he didn't really know if she would have killed herself without the torture, or if she would have made it. He'd never even spoken a word to her, but she haunted him. The image of a pretty, vibrant blond cheerleader with her entire life ahead of her grinning that the paper had run beside the story at odds with the one and only picture he had of her: a mental image of a broken doll, barely alive who could only stand the horrors she'd survived for a scant few weeks.

Regulus Black had learned a lot in that month: about himself, about strangers, about the Death Eaters, and about life in general. It had changed him. He had decided that he had to find a way to destroy Voldemort and his minions. The opportunity had come to him in the tail end of 1979 when the Dark Lord had commanded the younger Black to loan him Kreacher. At first he was hesitant, but his mother told him that he had to do anything the charismatic older man demanded. So the eighteen-year-old had given his friend, the family house-elf, to the man.

It had been a double-edged sword: Kreacher had nearly died, but Regulus had learned Voldemort's weakness. He learned everything he could, studying every arcane book he could find for a way to stop the Dark Lord. The desperate hunt for knowledge had led him to his present circumstances. The best solution he could come up with was an extremely-difficult charm that involved expensive and/or rare ingredients; not the least among them being sand from a Time-Turner.

The potion was to be able to undo physical damage by literally rolling back time. Adding a secondary charm to retain any objects he had had on his person at the time of the potion being used became the best solution he could find to retrieving Voldemort's locket without dying. The substance Kreacher had been forced to down had nearly killed him, which was saying something since house-elves' constitutions were much stronger than humans' – except, strangely enough, when it came down to alcohol.

Fittingly enough, Regulus's opening to steal the locket came on Christmas Day. His mother would spend the day in a potion-induced coma as she had every Christmas since Sirius had become a Gryffindor, and his father would spend the holiday with his mistress, leaving their younger son to his own devices. On some level, it almost amused him. The paper had said Moira's parents had been devoted to one another. They were dead, and Regulus and Sirius's parents' indifference and apathy toward one another had turned into outright hatred and pretending the other didn't exist.

It had taken him nearly the entire year to come up with the spell's ingredients, collecting them from Hogwarts, Knockturn Alley, and, finally, from the Ministry of Magic. It had taken another potion, Polyjuice potion, to get Time-Turner sand. He had created the Polyjuice potion to replicate his father's appearance since his father worked at the Ministry as the head of the Department of Mysteries. Part of his job involved disposal of artifacts, which included black-market Time Turners.

Time Turners were incredibly rare and extremely illegal. He possibly could have gotten one from the black market, but it probably would have landed him in Azkaban...or cost him a good chunk of the Black family fortune. Instead, he waited until Augustus started talking about a five-year undercover sting that had ended up with the Ministry confiscating seventeen Time Turners from an international crime syndicate. The sheer magical skill involved in making so many of the world's rarest magical artifacts was mind-boggling.

He supposed he could have stolen one of the Ministry's Time Turners—it had been his original plan—but a group of Time Turners that were going to be destroyed was just an opportunity he couldn't pass up.

A sleeping draught put his father out so a Polyjuiced Regulus could take his place. He used his father's authority to go with the lackeys that were going to destroy the Time Turners, used a simple sleight of hand to grab one of the Time Turners, and that was that. Ministry security, to put it simply, was laughable at best. If an eighteen-year-old could break in with a little bit of Polyjuice potion, they deserved to be robbed.

With the final ingredient, Regulus was able to create the charms and potion, tying a medallion bearing an hourglass to the potion that would rewind time so he could escape any injury he would suffer in Voldemort's cavern. He needed to get the locket. With Kreacher's help, he found the cavern in which the Dark Lord had hidden his precious locket. He thought he could handle what the cave had in store, but he had been wrong. That was just the first step, though. "Kreacher, if I don't make it, make sure that the locket is kept away from the Dark Lord and destroyed," he told the house-elf. Kreacher made a motion to protest, and Regulus's eyes narrowed. "That's an order. Stay here."

Cautiously, he picked his way through the tunnel that led to the cavern beneath. Thick darkness enveloped him; cold permeating his flesh and sinking to his very bones. His breath was visible, rising like miniature clouds, and he pulled his robes tighter around his pale, slender form. A soft murmur of _Lumos_, and wavering light surrounded him. Harsh light and deep shadows battled, wavering with the light cast from his wand.

He ran his hand along the wall as the light grew dimmer and dimmer, choked by unnatural darkness. He gasped as he felt something slimy beneath his hand, pulling it away. The sudden movement caused him to overcompensate, slipping on the slick stone beneath his feet. He fell hard, rolling down the incline and landing hard on his left hand, a loud snap filling the air. Starbursts exploded before his eyes as a sharp pain shot up his arm. His wand fell as he grabbed his injured arm which hung at an awkward angle, and he almost vomited when he saw that not only was his arm bent wrong, but the bone had poked its way through his skin.

Regulus tore the bottom of his robes off and wrapped his arm, silently cursing that he hadn't had the forethought to take a Healing course before his little adventure. His eyes widened in realization, and he shoved his uninjured hand into his pocket to feel the bottle of the potions he had combined in a vial. A sigh of relief escaped as he realized that the spell he had cast on the bottle to ensure its safety had held, and the potion was still intact.

He continued deeper down the cavern, bracing his injured arm on the wall, ignoring the wall's texture for the cooling effect of the stone. Blood dripped down his arm, splattering on the wall, and a door appeared in what had previously been a dead end. Regulus felt so stupid; he hadn't done enough research. If he hadn't accidentally injured himself he would have never been able to complete his quest. With a grimace, he tightened the scrap of cloth around his arm, popping the bone back into place with a sickening crunch. He doubled over and promptly vomited. He dry-heaved for a good, long while after he had evacuated the contents of his stomach. When his stomach had finally calmed enough to continue, he wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand, sighing with relief.

He continued past the door to find himself in an enormous cavern, stalactites hung from the ceiling, and water dripped from them, falling into a still lake surrounding a tiny island. The cadence of water hitting water was the only sound in the claustrophobic silence. The cold grew more intense, causing his already-aching arm to hurt even more, and he clutched it to his chest; his free hand raising his wand, letting the light spill over the still waters only disturbed by the occasional droplet from the stalactites above him. Regulus tested the water with a hand, gasping at the cold. It was like he had held his hand under the snow for an hour. Quickly, he pulled his hand out, shaking off the water; his fingers had already turned blue. There was no way he could swim to the island. Eyes closed as he tried to remember what Kreacher had told him; there was an invisible boat tied to the wall.

Blue eyes opened once more as he scanned the walls for any sign of an invisible boat. Yes, he _looked_ for an invisible boat. He shook his head at his stupidity and tried to come up with a way to find something invisible. "Okay, think, Regulus, think," he told himself. Eventually, it came to him. Taking a deep breath, he shoved his hand into the freezing water, pulling out a handful of water, sprinkling it along the edges of the lake, repeating the process until some of the droplets clung in midair. A smile crossed his lips as he slid his hand over the boat, feeling it until he found where it was tied to the wall, untying the boat, pushing it to the lake. He climbed in, shuddering as he saw through the bottom of the boat, seeing floating corpses with skin literally as white as death, tinged blue by the cold and lack of oxygen, sloughing from the emaciated dead, revealing hints of bone beneath. If he hadn't already expelled the contents of his stomach thoroughly, he had a feeling that he would be throwing up once more. There was only one reason why the water would be full of corpses.

They were Inferi. He shuddered in horror at the creatures, empty vessels that were reanimated by black magic. He had anticipated a lot of things but not Inferi. They were the stuff of nightmares. He had spent most of his life believing that they were just stories; the very idea that someone could be so evil as to use the darkest of arts, Necromancy, was too horrifying for the teenager to contemplate.

The eighteen-year-old took a deep breath to soothe himself as he guided the boat to the island in the middle of the lake. In the middle of the island, there was a chalice. Swallowing hard, he stared down into the chalice, grimacing at the sight of the locket. In Slytherin House, he had seen enough portraits of Salazar Slytherin wearing the locket to realize what it was. He reached into the chalice with the hope that maybe Kreacher had been forced to drink it out of Voldemort's spite. He had been wrong. The liquid burned like acid, and he removed his hand from the liquid, hissing with pain. There was no way around it; he would have to ingest it. He really didn't want to think what it would do to his insides. For the first time since he'd decided to start this quest and avenge Kreacher and the girl, he realized just how out of his league he really was. His hand slipped into his pocket, clenching the potion vial tightly.

He could do this. Yet another deep breath and he pulled the chalice to his lips and drained the vile liquid. His stomach instantly rebelled, but he fought the ever-present urge to vomit. He couldn't remember how many times it had been forced by virtue of simply being around the vile and disgusting Voldemort. The realization bucked his stomach up and despite wave after wave of nausea, Regulus continued. The nausea ebbed, but then the real horror began.

A girl appeared on the island; she was tall and adorable with blond hair that was feathered around her pretty face; large, blue eyes rimmed with golden lashes, and lips that always looked like she was about to smile. He'd never seen the girl before, and it took him a while to realize who she was. She was Moira, the girl he'd failed to save, looking like she had before the Death Eaters had gotten a hold of her; in full color, unlike the black-and-white photograph that had been in the paper. "Hello, Regulus," she said, her voice soft.

"How did you know my name?"

"You killed me, that's why," she replied. Guilt slammed through Regulus's body at the girl's comment. As she spoke, her form began to change. Slowly, he saw the wounds that the Death Eaters had inflicted on her slowly destroying her features.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry, I didn't…I didn't mean…" he stammered, looking down at the chalice. Even though he had drained it, it had refilled.

The girl walked toward him, her skin burned and raw, blood dripping from various wounds. He closed his eyes and did his best to just try to not see, but her voice had changed once more. Now, she screamed like she had when she had been tortured. As he closed his eyes, he started feeling her pain, his body shuddered and ached. Regulus knew that he couldn't let it stop him. He gulped down the chalice again. The pain grew stronger causing him to double over. He tried spilling the chalice, but the chalice stayed full, but the locket didn't fall out.

Regulus wasn't sure how much more that he could take. The stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils; his skin felt like it was melting over. He cracked an eye open to find that his skin was flickering. Sometimes, his skin appeared its normal pale tone, and then looked blistered and bloodied, exposing muscle and tendon. He focused hard on when his skin seemed normal, but the pain. Even when the Dark Lord had forced the Death Eaters to practice the Unforgivables on each other to get used to the pain, it hadn't hurt this much. He felt like he was melting from the inside out. Another chalice drained.

Breathing was painful; everything was painful. He fell to his knees as his vision grew blurry, and her screams grew louder and louder. Finally, the locket fell out. He grabbed it and forced it into his pocket, crawling to the lake that surrounded the island. He grabbed a handful of water, trying to remove the sickness that the concoction had wrought through his body. The water was freezing and helped give him clarity. His hand descended into the lake once more only for a bony hand to grip his wrist. Regulus jerked back and as he did, the creature came with him, it appeared vaguely human if incredibly emaciated with white skin, clouded-over eyes. The teenager was paralyzed with fear.

More of the abominable creatures clawed their way onto the island, the sickly-sweet stench of death and decay clogged the boy's nostrils as the creatures lumbered toward him. They descended on him, clawing at him, irritating the wounds that may or may not have been real. His arm screamed as one of the creatures gripped it. "Master!" he heard Kreacher call. His first instinct was to be mad at him for disobeying his orders, but that reaction was short-lived.

"Take it!" he cried. "Take it and destroy it."

"But…"

"Go!" Regulus ordered as he tossed the locket at Kreacher who caught it and disappeared. He heard the clink of glass against the island, watching as his potion rolled from his pocket. The Inferi tore at him, rotten flesh coating his skin as bits fell off their corpses. He coughed and gagged on the stench that assaulted his olfactory center, crawling beneath the creatures that descended on him. He grabbed the potion, ripped the cork out, and swallowed the potion. Instantaneously, the pain was gone as well as the Inferi who had descended upon him. He sat up slowly, eyes wide as he realized that even the pedestal that had held the chalice full of the Dark Lord's potion had disappeared.

Timidly, he sat up. His body still held aches and pains, but it was nothing like the torment he had received from the potion he had been forced to imbibe. Cautiously, he unwrapped the blood-soaked, impromptu bandage from his arm, sighing in relief when he realized that his arm was no longer broken although it still ached. Sucking in a breath, he dipped his hand into the lake that surrounded the island. It was chilly but not freezing like it had been. He peered deeply into the lake, desperately trying to find any sign of the Inferi, but the lake was empty.

The potion had worked, possibly too well. The potion was only supposed to roll back thirteen hours, but it looked like the cavern hadn't been touched in years. It was completely empty and there was no sign of the hexes that Voldemort had placed on the cavern. The water was deep so Regulus swam across it to come to where the door had been. That, too, was gone. The cave was still dark, but it wasn't nearly as dark as it had been. Easily, his wand lit everything up with a simple _Lumos_.

Carefully, he picked his way out of the cavern. Things looked similar enough, but the very disappearance of everything in the cave made him wary. He walked to the nearest village; as a pale young man with shoulder-length black hair and a torn robe, he caught a few looks from the people. Things looked familiar, but he couldn't really figure out where he'd ended up. It wasn't until he passed an empty news vendor, catching sight of the date on the paper. It was Christmas Day 1966. Regulus was only supposed to be six years old.

His potion had transported him _thirteen years_ in the past. He was bewildered. It was a cold, December evening, and he was soaked through and through. Luckily enough, a nice but lonely elderly lady let him come in and warm up by her fire. The kindly woman prattled on about her family who were running late, and Regulus felt horrible for her. He stayed with the woman until his clothes dried, and then he made his way to Hogwarts to tell Dumbledore about his accident and about the locket.

This piqued the Headmaster's curiosity, and Regulus told him as much as he knew. Professor Flitwick created a charm for him that would help him disguise his appearance until they found out how he could get back to his time, and Professor Madigan Flaherty was born. To keep an eye on his younger self, Regulus took on the role of the Black family's private tutor before Sirius and his younger brother would go to Hogwarts, trying to guide himself to not make the same mistakes he had.

Some things _had_ changed. Regulus Black the younger had been sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin which, to his older self, was highly amusing, and it made his mother double her sleeping potions for the "stress" of giving birth to two Gryffindors. He managed to save Moira and his family by stealing some of the Black family fortune and turning it into Muggle money to send them away on a trip they "won." He did his best to fix as much damage the Death Eaters had inflicted on the populace, but he wasn't perfect. He wasn't even an Auror.

(Wednesday, December 21, 1977)

The years passed with Regulus not knowing what would happen once the time loop closed on December 25, 1979. He didn't know if there would forever be two of them or if one of them would fade into oblivion. Time passed normally for the elder Regulus. He was no longer an eighteen-year-old, but he was now almost thirty and had aged accordingly despite the charm that he often wore. Today was the Winter Solstice and the last day of school for winter break.

The twenty-nine-year-old Regulus sat in his office, staring deeply into the fire that danced in the fireplace lost in his thoughts. He absent-mindedly fondled the charm that held the hourglass medallion. Every day, a single grain of sand had fallen to the bottom. After eleven years out of time, there were many more grains at the bottom and as the Christmas he had gone back in time approached, he grew more and more worried and fearful. He didn't want to die, but he didn't know what would happen when the final grain of sand descended. They descended every day at the same exact time: 8:22 pm. With a sigh, he watched yet another grain fall. He tried so hard to make things better, but he didn't know what else he could really do. As far as his younger self had told him, Kreacher hadn't come any closer in destroying the Dark Lord's locket.

Neither Regulus nor Kreacher actually knew what the locket really was, but they both knew just how important it was that it was destroyed, and Voldemort never got another chance to get his hands on it. Regulus, Kreacher, and Regulus's younger self studied every possibility, trying to find out just what they were up against with no such luck.


End file.
